


The Undesirables

by Wot_In_Quiznack



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-03 21:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16333430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wot_In_Quiznack/pseuds/Wot_In_Quiznack
Summary: As brother of the Empress and heir to the Al_Tean throne, Prince Lance lives a life of complete bliss. He holds the title of Senior Lieutenant of the Al_Tean Military and is respected wherever he goes. People practically idolize him as they would a God.However, after aiding in the escape of an elusive Outer Zone War Prisoner named Keith, he is charged with high treason and becomes an Imperial Threat. He is forced to run from the Empire with nothing but the clothes on his back…...Until the Outer Zone Rebellion finds him.The former prince reunites with the kindred spirit he released back on Al_Tea, but he also comes to know the people of the rebellion that despise the Al_Tean Imperium - and his sister.And it’s thanks to these men and women that Lance realizes that the "Empire of Paradise" he once blindly protected is no paradise at all. And inspired by his rebel comrades, he vows to put an end to his sister's oppressive reign.No matter how Undesirable the method may be.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in a reality where the roles of the Galra and the Alteans are basically swapped. The Galra lead a resistance of freedom fighters and the Alteans are the ruling species (much like in the alternate reality we saw in Season 3).
> 
> Another note to make is that "Commander Casca" is the name I decided on for that *currently* anonymous helmeted alien girlfriend Matt has. I named her this after the French word for helmet: "Casque".
> 
> One last note to take is that this takes place in a universe where Voltron never existed. Yes, Zarkon ruled previously in the way we know in the canon show, but Allura defeated him without the lions. Also, all the characters look and act fairly different from their canon counterparts. In the 200 years that Allura has been in rule, many things have changed - and this shall be reflected in upcoming chapters.
> 
> I hope this clears everything up, but if you have any questions feel free to ask!! 
> 
> \- Wot_In_Quiznack

“G-Reb Cruiser No. 2901, Come in.”

Static sounded from a small, handheld device attached to a pilot’s waistband as a group of small ships made their ways through the deep recesses of space. Moments before, silence had engulfed the cockpit where a single individual was at the helm.

The rest of the vessel remained vacant, save for a few machines that would move once every few moments. These were droids that were programmed only to control disturbances found in the systems of the ship.

The pilot reached up from where he’d had a firm grip on the steering wheel in front of him. He picked up the receiver, holding it close to his mouth. He pressed a button, projecting his coordinates back to the main fleet from which he had departed.

“This is G-Reb Cruiser No. 2901. Requesting permission to proceed upon command.”

His voice was steady, but an undeniable rush of excitement had overtaken his veins. It had been years since his last mission, and he had nearly forgotten about how exhilarating life on the battlefield had been.

“Alright, 2901. You’re connected with the other Outer Zone warships. Await next command.”

The pilot let out a sigh in an attempt to calm his anxious heart. He flipped a switch on the side of his device before returning it to his safety belt. Listening for the static of the other pilots in his troop, he accelerated slightly. He smiled at the sound of the roar of the shuttle’s engines.

He turned when he heard the static of another pilot’s connection. A voice emerged from a sound box with swift, prompt commands.

“G-Reb Troop Joxx. Commence roll call.”

The pilot lifted the device once more with a smirk on his lips. He flipped a switch, locking his vessel on auto-pilot. Automatically, the ship’s GPS systems were locked on the mother vessel. He turned from the wheel and trotted through a hatch that slid open as soon as he activated its sensors, entering a narrow port that held many smaller fighter pods.

He boarded one of the vacant pods, feeling the adrenaline fill his veins at the thought of entering the battlefield again. It had been years since his last mission, and he certainly missed the pleasure he felt in ambushing the unsuspecting Al_Tean guards of the Imperium.

He looked up, pressing several buttons over his head as the engines behind him roared to life, purring with more intensity as he revved the pod up for flight. He smiled to himself, firmly gripping the levers on either side of him. His eyes drifted down to where a large door slid open - his exit. 

“This is what I love.” He murmured to himself, pushing the levers forward.

The pod burst to life, blasting through the open doors to an immense expanse of space. The pilot shivered as satisfied chills crawled up his spine. He pressed against a second switch that was situated beneath his foot. His pod picked up speed. His eyes were fixed upon a group of other pods that flew in tight formation with a single ship at the head. 

The pilot reached up to a folded microphone that had been attached to his helmet. As if on cue, a transmission from the group he pursued began to play through the speakers near his ears.

“This is G-Reb Pilot Bal 7 checking in.”

“This is G-Reb Pilot Tau 3 checking in.”

“This is G-Reb Pilot Olk 5 checking in.”

The voices of the transmission echoed in his ears as his pod neared the formation before him. He managed to join in right as roll call had been completed. He let out a sigh, after having held his breath in anticipation. The pilot turned slightly and neatly put his pod beside the vessel that led the rest, where his commander firmly held control of the pilots behind him.

The pilot looked into the cockpit of the neighboring shuttle. His eyes landed upon his comrade who sternly stared into the vast, starry expanse before them. He smiled, his fangs jutting over his bottom lip in a playful fashion.

“This is G-Reb Pilot Dai 2 checking in.”

The commander’s head turned when he heard the new voice. He locked eyes with Dai 2. For a moment, the commander’s eyes softened. This was short-lived, however, and the commander turned back when the roll call was complete.

“All pilots in G-Reb Troop Joxx have checked in. Waiting for response from Troops Tygra and Kring.”

“Roger that, Joxx. Stand by for further instruction. Proceed to the rendezvous point.”

The commander nodded, leaning into the levers of his cockpit. His ship began to pick up speed, breaking apart from the group until the other pilots caught up to him.

“Okay, Joxx Pilots. You heard Command Center.” The commander said, his attention now turned back to the pods behind him, “Let’s get to Al_Tea.”

\----------

Millions of lightyears away, a feeling of immense enthusiasm had come to rest upon the vast, bright blue planet of Al_Tea. Upon the surface of the globe, peoples from all different nations and planets arrived to take part in a worldwide celebration.

The marketplaces were filled with individuals who looked to get a glimpse at the intergalactic materials being sold at each street shop. Shopkeepers announced their bargains into crowded streets, openly welcoming customers who showed interest in their wares. 

Streetside performances were scattered throughout these marketplaces. Musicians performed their finest pieces for small crowds who would gather and listen. Their music filled the minds of their observers with patriotic tunes that only contributed to the celebratory sense of pride that hung in the air.

Young ladies marveled at bedazzled jewelry and antiques. Young men seemed to show more interest in interplanetary wares and weaponry that they could use to capture the heart of a beautiful young woman who would take notice. 

Older men and women gathered with friends at cafes that had been dispersed throughout the area. They conversed with old friends over warm drinks and delectable pastries, reflecting on past affairs and faded memories. They compared their previous generations’ environment to that of the current and acknowledged the undeniable changes that had taken place over the course of several centuries.

Outside of these marketplaces, children ran through the streets of neighborhoods. Their laughter rang out as they skipped around with long sticks of colorful fire in their hands. Little boys showed off their newest toy shuttles to their friends while little girls giggled at them from afar as they collected flowers to give to strangers later on in the day. Harlequin shades of blue, pink, and purple filled their arms as the little girls skipped through the streets in search of their parents, looking for help to hand out their little gifts.

Young couples strolled hand in hand along vibrant gardens that lined the inner city streets. They listened quietly to the music that hung in the air as they quietly relaxed in the presence of their significant other. Some sat on blankets under the thick canopies of the elaborately decorated Al_Tean willows. The decorum sparkled in such a way that it advertised the very holiday that called for such a lively, attractive ruckus:

The 200th Anniversary of the Founding of the Al_Tean Imperium.

Among the crowd of enthusiastic peasants, a young man dressed in the colors of the Royal Guard could be seen walking down the streets of the marketplace. 

He skirted around children who hungrily looked upon the newest berries that had been freshly picked from the fields of otherworldly farming nations. He lightly chuckled at young men who courted uninterested ladies. He knew well of the rejection they were to be subject to.

He turned a corner, careful not to collide with any of the marketplace consumers. He moved quickly, for he had a single objective in mind.

He had an Al_Tean troop patrol to join, and he had no time to waste. 

As Prince of the Al_Tean Imperium and the Lieutenant Major of the armed forces, he had a responsibility of arriving at their meeting point as early as possible. He had to set an example for those ranked beneath him.

A speaker in his helmet continually sounded with static as he moved into and out of the range of his fellow knights. He could hear the chatter of his peers through the quiet transmission as they reported movements they spotted among the crowds gathered. Many details were lost to the static of his helmet, but the knight didn’t seem to take much notice to it.

After slinking through more crowds that only seemed to expand as time went on, the young knight turned a corner and stopped under a small flag bearing the same colors as his uniform. He leaned against the wall, letting out a slight sigh as he caught his breath. He removed his helmet, shaking his hair out. 

“Well, it’s about time the little prince arrived.” A voice chuckled lightheartedly beside him, causing him to lift his head.

The prince felt a smile come to his lips at the playful tease. He laughed breathily, turning to meet the eyes of a second Al_Tean knight.

“Private Davrik.” He responded in the same playful manner, walking up to his companion, “You’re here early.”

The soldier removed his helmet, exposing a face that was different from that of the Lieutenant. It was dotted with splotches of scales that swirled with hues of silver and blue like an ongoing Ambre around his features. His cheeks were sunken in with gills that rose and fell with each breath he took.

His narrowed, pale eyes gleamed playfully as a jagged smile extended across his fish-like facade.

“Well, the excitement of the Bicentennial Founding had me awake much earlier than I would have liked.” Davrik laughed, “But I decided to make my rounds and come a little earlier than I typically do.”

“Impressive.” The soldier responded, chuckling as he leaned against the wall of the building beside them, “Did you see anything suspicious on your way up here?”

“Can’t say I did.” Dravik shook his head, doing the same. He propped his helmet on his side and glanced to his right, where shopkeepers continued to sell their wares to consumers, “What about you, Lance?” 

Davrik shot a smile at a group of young boys who stared in awe at the two soldiers who stood across the street from them. They scampered away in a frenzy, amazed that someone on the Royal Court would actually meet gazes with them.

Lance looked over at Davrik upon hearing his amused snicker. He was only able to get a glimpse of multiple small feet, as the boys scampered away. 

A smile came to his face as well.

“Me neither.” Lance denied as he looked away with his lingering grin.

Suddenly, there was a crackle of static in his helmet once more. Lance’s eyes lit up as he straightened his posture.

A higher ranked official was approaching.

Simultaneously, Davrik did the same. He slipped his helmet on over his head and regained his previous posture. Their helmets were picking up other soldiers around the perimeter quickly getting close.

Moments later, a tall woman with broad shoulders turned a corner and neared them. She was dressed in a suit of silver, white, and blue armor that glinted in the Al_Tean sunlight. Her light blue cape fluttered in the wind as she strode toward the two of them. 

She was closely followed by new trainees who wore uniforms that were simplistic compared to her grander suit.

Lance and Davrik bowed their heads when they spotted her tall, intimidating stature from across the marketplace road. They crossed their right arms over their chest in respectful salute to their commander, awaiting her impending instructions.

“Commander Hira.” They said in unison, greeting her as they had been trained to do since the beginning of their military careers.

“At ease, men.” She stated flatly, saluting them in return, “We’ve been cleared by the Imperial Court to commence our patrol until the Empress arrives. Get in formation.”

Hira walked forward, Davrik and Lance filing into position behind her. Davrik exchanged glances with the other knights in their troop. The new trainees seemed to be so tense, especially in the presence of Commander Hira, the most intimidating knight in the Al_Tean ranks. Davrik shot them a smile in an attempt to ease their jagged nerves. However, very little changed despite his light-hearted attitude.

Lance glanced over at his commander.

“So, Commander.” He said, his strides remaining constant with those around him, “Any rebel activities reported thus far in the day?”

“Not yet, soldier.” Hira responded, her eyes fixated to the path before her, “But we must keep our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. You never know where or when they could strike.”

Davrik locked eyes with Lance. His heart skipped a beat when he felt the excitement of a possible attack begin to sink in. He felt a smile come to his face.

“You say that as though you know they’re going to attack.” He looked forward, breaking his gaze from the prince, “They’ve tried to take us down before. And they failed. Surely they would have gotten the message of our superiority by now?”

“Don’t speak so confidently now, private. I’ve been a part of the armed forces longer than any of you, and if there’s anything you need to know about the rebellion, it’s that they don’t know when to stop.” Commander Hira looked back at him before turning a corner into the main square of the marketplace, “Many within our ranks have speculated that this will lead to their ultimate demise, but until that comes about, we must be vigilant in our fight for unity and power.”

Lance felt his lips curl upward in an amused smile. He knew how much Davrik hated when Commander Hira began to ramble on and on about the knowledge she had that they didn’t. He glanced over at Davrik who rolled his eyes and glared mockingly at the Captain.

“She talks too much.” Lance heard him mutter under his breath.

“And you, Private, should learn to not talk at all.” Hira sternly flashed a look that sent chills up Davrik’s spine and unnerved the obedient underlings who stood behind them, “That obnoxiously loud mouth of yours could lead to your own demise. Don’t let it be your downfall.”

Davrik said nothing in response. He looked away from the Commander, trying to ignore the throbbing bruise on his ego. Commander Hira stopped abruptly when her helmet began to pick up a transmission from the Imperial Court. As if on cue, the soldiers behind her did the same while the commander listened to her next orders.

“Alright, men. That was the Imperial Court. We’ve just received a report of deportation.” Commander Hira turned around to face her patrol, her arms placed neatly behind her back, “The Gargalaxian Phloban and her escorts have entered Al_Tean airspace and will be landing shortly. The festivities are due to begin in a few doboshes, so our presence is requested at the main Ceremonial Arena. Let us take our leave.”

As soon as these words were spoken, the entire troop turned and began to walk to the Arena that was located blocks away from where they stood. They saluted their commander before marching off in perfect sync and tight formation. Commander Hira stood at the back of the troop, closely watching each and every one of the troopers.

“We’re coming close to our ceremonial execution, and things have been too calm here. Be sure keep your eyes peeled.” She sternly said to her underlings, marching firmly behind them, “We must be ready for a security breach at any moment.”

Davrik glanced over at Lance as they marched onward to the Arena. Lance had locked eyes with him for only a moment before Davrik flashed him a smile that made it all too clear that he was ready to taste the blood of rebels.

Lance only looked ahead, trying not to be called out by the Commander… though he himself could feel chills crawl up his spine when he saw the bloodthirsty grin on his friend’s face.

\----------

Beyond the vibrant airspace of the Al_Tean atmosphere, life didn’t seem to die down. As a matter of fact, it seemed to have only grown more lively.

Shuttle shops scattered the space surrounding the vast, bright blue planet. They hung in orbit of Al_Tea, hosting any alien shuttles which stopped by for a quick bargain or pawn. Others hoped to get some information on the many events that were to be held on this very day in Al_Tea.

Just outside of the Al_Tean airspace, a group of pods flew in tight formation, just barely visible beyond the paths of the Outer Guard that undoubtedly patrolled the outer ring of Al_Tea. They kept as close together as when they had first set off to their rendezvous point just a short while before. 

For a brief moment, a rush of static sounded in the ears of all the pilots present within the pods, signifying that they had connected to the signals of other pilots in their area.

“...Stationed within Pawn Vessel Swarti. We are currently awaiting the arrival of Troops Joxx, Kring, and Tygra. Incoming troops, check in upon arrival.” A voice grew within the static, sending reports back to the Outer Zone Command Center.

It was another pilot. An ally, possibly positioned in or around their assigned rendezvous point.

As if on cue, the pilot at the head of the pod of ships pressed his finger into the button on the side of his helmet, interrupting the transmission. He smiled amusedly, playfully interrupting the speaking pilot.

“This is G-Reb Troop Joxx checking in. We are entering Al_Tean airspace and nearing the Rendezvous Site.” He stated simply, his eyes scanning the bustling space around them, “All Joxx Pilots are present and accounted for.”

“Roger that, Troop Joxx.” The officer responded over the transmitter, “Commander Shirogane, transmit your coordinates back to Command Center and have your troop man their positions. We strike as soon as we’re given the all-clear.”

“Dually noted, Chief Commander Trelix.” The Commander of the smaller pod stated in response, giving a quick nod before locking eyes with each of the pilots who stood with him, “Attention all Joxx Units. Proceed to your previously assigned areas. Initiate your Cloakers until we are cleared for crossover. You know the drill.”

Following their commander’s orders, the ships began to disperse. The shuttles separated themselves throughout the airspace, hidden by the cloaking mechanisms activated by each individual pilot. The commander dipped forward, his eyes set on a single space near their assigned rendezvous point.

“Bal 7, any word on the whereabouts of Troops Kring and Tygra?” The Chief of Command’s voice sounded once more to all the pilots present.

“Nothing, Chief.” Bal 7 responded, “Last we heard, they were departing from Sector Visa.”

“Then they’re nearby.” Commander Shirogane breathed, “Olk 1. How are our Cloakers looking for time and hold up?”

“Cloakers are still 57% charged, giving cover for a rough estimate of about a Varga.” Another pilot responded, flipping a switch in her own cockpit, “Initiating low power mode now.”

“Good.” Commander Shirogane nodded, “Dai 2, I need you to keep watch for Tygra and Kring. They should be here any moment.”

“Yes sir.” Dai 2 reached down to his scanner, initiating a lock on any ally shuttles in the area, “Scanner Lock Initiated.”

But before he could finish his statement, laughter had erupted over the transmission. Commander Shirogane bowed his head, an amused grin coming to his lips.

“Uh oh, Kringers. It looks like trouble is brewing about the field!” A voice cheered.

Dai 2 buried his face in his hand, letting out a groan upon hearing the voice he knew all too well. Chief Commander Shirogane couldn’t help but chuckle in response. He’d set his shuttle into a nosedive, and the pilots in his subdivision had done the same.

“Commander Holt.” Commander Shirogane mused, his eyes glancing over a scanner that had turned on once the cloaking devices had been initiated, “It’s about time you and your troop joined us.”

A second cluster of dots had drawn near to theirs, quickly followed by a third. They were hidden as well but kept close together so as not to be detected by the Al_Tean troops on patrol through the airspace. Dai 2 felt a slight bump against his shuttle from one of theirs.

“And it’s about time you brought your kid brother back onto the field with us!” Commander Holt teased, “It’s gotten a bit too chummy out here.”

Dai 2 opened his mouth to shut him up, but he stopped himself before anything could be said. He already knew that there were agents back at the Command Center closely watching him for any reports of misconduct. He couldn’t afford to be caught either. He knew it would cost him more probation time, during which he would probably be forced to monitor the repurposing of broken down G-Reb units, which had become a job that Keith had grown to hate with a passion.

“Be careful with how you pilot that thing, Commander Holt.” A third voice broke through the transmission, “We don’t want you breaking down mid-mission now, do we?”

“Oh! Commander Olia!” Matt teasingly cheered upon hearing the new arrival, “What a pleasant surprise. Had I known your pod was trailing mine, I would have invited you to join the big dogs up front!”

There was a slight chuckle on the other line. Commander Shirogane turned his head to lock eyes with the pilot of the third pod that had come into view on his right. A furry creature stood firmly at the helm of the pod, her eyes glancing briefly to meet Shiro’s. She shot him a smile before taking back to Commander Holt.

“Oh, I’m fine, Commander Holt.” She muttered playfully in response, “I would have much rather brought up the rear. I’ll be more than happy to let the Al_Tean pilots take you out first. And knowing how reckless you are, you have easily been discovered by the Airspace Scouts, Mr. HotShot.”

“Oh excuse me, Cappy. I thought the job of a Commander was to lead his pod.” Matt raised his hands defensively, “Face danger head-on. Fear nothing and no one.”

“Well, excuse me while I use the strategic approach to battle.” Commander Olia shrugged smugly, “Be my guest to use the Fool’s approach. Let’s see where that gets you.”

While the Commanders conversed, Dai 2 had taken to quickly scanning the perimeters for any new movements in the Al_Tean airspace. He noticed that the Al_Tean Guard had begun to dispatch their shuttles in greater quantities. They were beefing up their security.

“Alright, you two, that’s enough joking around.” A third voice piped up as another pod of ships joined them, “We have a mission to accomplish. Tau 3, any word on the movement of the Gargalaxian Prison Ship?”

“Negative, Commander.” Tau 3 replied, “The last report we received from Command Center placed the Gargalaxians in close proximity to System G-9-C.”

“Then those suckers are on their way.” Commander Holt repositioned his grip on the handles of his steering wheel, letting out a deep breath, “They’re getting close.”

“Commander Holt.” Commander Shirogane interrupted their playful bickering, “Has your sister reached her station on the mainland yet?”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Matt gave a brief salute.

He turned when a crackling noise escaped from his cockpit intercom.

“Incoming. Incoming.” A voice broke through the static, barely audible.

Commander Holt smiled slightly.

“I think that might even be the little runt now.”

There was a brief moment of silence following this statement. Commander Holt had turned to his crackling speaker and flipped a switch, securing the connection of the transmission that had been coming through. 

“This is Pidge Gunderson of Oz Troop 002 seeking contact with G-Reb troops Kringer, Tygra, and Joxx.” a young woman’s voice began to break through the static in a hushed voice, just barely speaking up over the plethora of other voices in the background, “Come in, Troops.”

“And this is Commander Holt of Troop Kring, requesting to grant ground connection to the G-Reb Pilots.” Commander Holt announced, leaning back in his chair.

“Request received and verified, Commander Holt. This is Commander Olia of Troop Tygra.” Olia replied, flipping a few switches on her console to stabilize the engines of her pod.

“And this is Chief Commander Shirogane of Troop Joxx.” Shirogane’s voice sounded as well, “We read you loud and clear. What’s your status, Ground Spy?”

There was another brief moment of static. The pilots sat in silence as they waited for a report. Dai 2’s eyes lifted up to scan the airspace once again. His scanner had begun to pulsate, picking up more movement around them. A light hum had begun to escape from the dashboard as more enemy vessels began to surround their pods. A warning signal had begun to emit from the scanners of all the pilots present.

“Keep your eyes peeled, pilots.” Olia stated sternly to the quiet pilots who had been listening in on their roll call, “The Imperial Storm’s beginning to brew.”

She fastened her goggles to her head, narrowing her eyes. Dai 2 gripped the handles of his wheel, letting out a breath to release his nerves. He felt a chill of excitement crawl up his spine. Simultaneously, all other present pilots did the same.

“I am reporting from the Underground Tunnels of the Imperial Arena. Shay and I made it here okay, and I’m assuming the other Land Spies safely made it to their underground stations.”

“Good to hear, Pidge.” Commander Shirogane said, briefly locking eyes with Dai 2, “Are Secondaries Nyma and Rolo in position?”

Dai 2 flipped a switch on his scanner, shifting his mechanical focus from the atmospheric level of Al_Tea to the ground level. He began to pick up the locations of all Ground Spies stationed on the surface, signified by orbs that closely resembled those of the orbs depicted on the atmospheric level projection.

“They are.” Pidge replied firmly, her voice still a hushed whisper though her voice was still strong against the static of her transmission, “They’re looking out for the Gargalaxian Prison Entourage. However, there have been no movements since dispatch.”

Dai 2 nodded, affirming Pidge’s response.

“Roger that.” Commander Shirogane lifted his chin slightly, “Report in with any developments on the ground.”

“Affirmative.” Pidge stated firmly, “Ground Troop 002 Out.”

And with that, the static cut off. A slight moment of silence followed the conversation, but it didn’t seem to last very long.

“Attention Troops Joxx, Kring, and Tygra. Come in!”

Static had begun to sound from the intercoms within the cockpits of the gathered pilots once more. Commander Shirogane turned to his and held down a button underneath the speaker. His eyes never left the vessel that loomed before his group. As if on cue, the other Commanders did the same.

“Command Center! This is Chief Commander Shirogane of G-Reb Troop Joxx.” He firmly reported, “Reporting in.”

“Command Center! This is Commander Olia of G-Reb Troop Tygra reporting in.” Olia chimed in.

“Command Center, this is Commander Holt of G-Reb Troop Kring reporting in.” Matt finished, “We are currently in position within Al_Tean Airspace, scattered and ready for the go.”

“That’s good to hear, Troops.” The Agent of Commander Center responded, “Commander Holt, did your troop safely get Ground Troop Oz to the Al_Tean Ground Base?”

“Affirmative.” Commander Holt sarcastically rolled his eyes, “They were intercepted by the Imperium Zone Secondaries stationed in the Sky division of the Anri Region in complete secrecy thanks to Scout Pidge’s extra-ass technological advancements.”

“Commander Holt, focus on the mission.” The Agent answered sternly, “Now, are Lead Secondaries Nymah and Rolo in position?”

“Yes sir. They are at the top of the Ceremonial Dome with full view of sky and ground.” Commander Shirogane reported before Holt could say another word.

Commander Holt shot her look. He swatted his hand his way and rolled his eyes. Dai 2 chuckled to himself.

“Command Center, how Imperial Movements looking? Things have gotten a bit quiet out here.” Olia growled lowly, “It doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Well, it won’t remain that way for too long. We have reports of major Gargalaxian Movements from Sector Visa. We’re assuming the vessels are the prison ships we’re targeting. We’re sending their coordinates to your scanners now.”

Dai 2 looked down at the scanner below him. His eyes widened when a large cluster of discolored dots had appeared on his screen. A warning siren began to wail from the cockpit dashboard. His eyes lifted from the scanner as he began to notice a large, golden ship looming in their direction.

“Command Center, I’ve afraid we don’t have enough time to intercept those coordinates.” Commander Shirogane replied, his eyes suddenly widening, “I think we have Gargalaxian movement upon us right now!”

Mere moments after he’d said this, a giant vessel of blue and gold loomed before them. Smaller pods of the same color scheme followed the ship at all sides. Dai 2 inched his pod forward, peering out at the starship.

“How is that possible??” The Agent responded in disbelief, “They left their stations only 10 doboshes ago!”

“Well, we don’t have time for disbelief now.” Commander Holt suddenly called to the pilots over the transmission, “Rebels, it’s time to hunker down! Kringers, you’re with me!”

“Tygra pilots, follow me and stay close!” Olia pressed forward on the handles of her steering wheel, her pod suddenly inching forward, “We have to get through the planet atmosphere with as much secrecy as possible!”

“G-Reb Joxx, pay close attention. Keep your shuttle monitors focused on troops Kring and Tygra. Keep those cloaks activated and those guns loaded even while you lie in wait.” Chief Commander Shirogane stated firmly to his own troop, “Provide as much cover as you possibly can from afar. Those Outer Zone prisoners on that ship are depending on us to get them out of there before their mass execution. Don’t let your comrades down!”

“Vrepit Sa!” All pilots cheered together in unison.

“Be careful, troops. We have valuable cargo on that ship.” The Agent quickly stated, “Remember to get in, get the prisoners, and get out before too much damage can be done.”

“Affirmative, Prime Agent Holt.” Commander Shirogane nodded, “Over and out.”

The transmission was then cut.

Chief Commander Shirogane leaned forward, getting a closer look at the movements of the airspace. Dai 2 inched up behind him, letting out a slight breath. Commander Shirogane locked eyes with him, letting a grin grace his lips.

“You ready to enter the battlefield again, little brother?” He playfully asked, a chuckle hiding behind his comment.

Dai 2 laughed to himself, tilting his head rather uneasily.

“Are you kidding?” He regripped the handles of his steering wheel, “I have spent the last 5 years living for this very moment.”

“And I glad you finally made it back here.” Commander Shirogane, responded, “The battlefield felt empty without your hot head.”

Dai 2 saluted his Commander, smirking playfully. Commander Shirogane returned the gesture before turning once more. His eyes narrowed as he focused upon the sight of Commander Olia’s pod as it circled around the bottom ports of the Golden Vessel.

“Now.” Commander Holt announced, “Let’s move out!”

\----------

The Ceremonial Arena was brimming with people when Hira’s patrol troop entered its tall, metal gates. Lance could feel Davrik’s jagged scales brush against him as the group pressed together. The dense crowds made it difficult for the troop to maneuver, but Hira ushered them onward anyway.

They had a place to get to, and a time in which to get there.

“Alright, men. The Imperial Escort is expected to enter at any moment now.” Hira turned once her troop stood in place on a platform elevated in the very center of the Arena, “Scouting reports suggest that the Gargalaxians have entered the Airspace as well, so we must remain alert.”

“Ma’am. Have the scouts spotted any suspicious Galra Rebel Activity?” Lance saluted respectfully as he spoke.

“At ease, Lieutenant.” Hira nodded his way, “The Airspace Scouts have not reported any rebel activity of the sort, but that doesn’t mean they’ll-”

“That doesn’t mean they won’t be here. We get it.” Davrik rolled his eyes, “We heard you the first time.”

Hira glared his way once more, stalking toward him.

“Private, the only reason you are a part of this troop is that the Military Advisor took a shine to you when he found you on that wasteland of a home of yours on Duro after the Galra attacked our base on the main field.” Hira growled, now standing inches away from him, “And the only reason you have not been booted from the Guard entirely is that he somehow convinced the Imperial Court to take pity upon you and take you in. Do not give me a reason to convince them to repeal your privilege.”

Lance’s heart sunk at the mention of Duro. He turned to look at Davrik out of the corner of his eye. Davrik stared up at Hira, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had to grit his teeth so as not to lash out at his Commander, especially after making a remark of that kind.

Hira leaned into his face, obviously finding satisfaction in his silence and intimidation.

“Now, I suggest that unless you want to wind up like the rest of your klan and get thrown to the Scarecrows just as the Galra did, you keep your trap shut and stay in line.” Hira’s nose was inches away from his now, “Do you understand me, Private?”

Silence had engulfed the small group of soldiers for a brief moment. Davrik glared back up at Hira. His jaw was wired shut. He had something he wanted to say, but he reluctantly held his tongue.

“...Yes ma’am.” Davrik forced himself to utter, his lingering glare just barely hiding the intense fury that boiled within his veins.

Hira lifted her chin at the Private, turning on her heels with a pompous skip in her step. 

“Now. Was that so hard, Private?” She responded, glancing at him over her shoulder before being interrupted by yet another transmission.

Lance returned his gaze to Davrik, who stood silently beside him. Davrik had gone completely quiet after hearing what Hira had said. Lance could see the hurt in his eyes when he thought back to whatever tragic events had taken place back on his home planet. 

He tried contacting him via his headset, keeping his voice a whisper. But Davrik didn’t seem to budge at the sound of a new transmission. After a few more fruitless attempts and a glare from Commander Hira, Lance turned away from his friend to get back into the uniform position of the rest of the troop.

Meanwhile, people had begun to gather around the platform they stood on. Lance could hear small boys point to the strong soldiers who stood before them with wide eyes, vowing to their amused parents that they would one day stand in their place. Although in most situations Lance would have also found entertainment in their innocence, Lance knew that it was time to get serious. The crowds were beginning to expand in the Ceremonial Arena, and the Phloban of Gargalax was to arrive at any moment to meet with the Empress.

“Alright, men.” Commander Hira spoke up once again, taking her position at the head of the uniform troop, “Look alive from here on out. The Empress is reportedly on her way and the Phloban has been intercepted by the Airspace Pilots. They will be here shortly.”

The only response to this statement was a single sound of metal upon metal as the soldiers saluted their Commander once more. And as if on cue, there was a sudden roar from the gathered crowd. Lance lifted his gaze once more to see a young woman walking forward surrounded by a group of Al_Tean knights.

She kept her eyes forward, focusing with the same intensity as that of a powerful military Goddess. She wielded a long scepter made of silver that had been polished to a constant gleam and beaded with the fragments of crystal that glowed from a crest that sat at the very top of her handle. She stared ahead with a potency about her that would make even the most bloodthirsty beast in the universe cower before her.

She stepped forward lightly and firmly, walking in exact time with her escorts. Her lavender heels clicked quietly against the concrete as she practically floated down the path that had been laid out before her. She gave no attention to the people who marveled senselessly at her presence, but she would give the smallest smile to the children who stared at her in wonder as she walked on by. 

The train of her dress trailed behind her in a cosmic flurry of velvet and silver. Dark fabric ruffles of dark purple silk cascaded like a waterfall to the ground, accented only by silvery jewels that speckled the material in a sort of perfection that only seemed reserved for a woman of such high standing as herself.

The troop walked in formation, leading the young woman to the platform upon which Lance and his troop stood. Her eyes scanned the soldiers who stood before her with a firm yet gentle glance. She locked eyes with Lance for a brief moment before giving him a slight nod of approval. Lance lifted his chin. 

Commander Hira stepped forward and took a knee, bowing her head in the presence of the woman.

“Empress Allura.” She acknowledged solemnly. 

At this, all other soldiers present bowed their heads in reverent respect for their Empress. A soft smile graced her lips.

“At ease, soldiers.” Empress Allura nodded kindly, “I am very proud of our successful security measures, but let us remain vigilant. The Gargalaxians shall arrive shortly, so it is time for us to confront the crowds of the Al_Tean Imperium.”

As she said this, a small drone wielding a hardly visible camera lifted up behind her. There was a very faint red flashing light that blinked on the side of the machine. A transmission had been broadcasting across the entire Universe in celebration of the bi-millennial anniversary of the founding of the Al_Tean Imperium. This transmission had been going on since the early morning openings had kicked off the festivities of the day, but it was universally understood that the main event of the festival was the affair that was to take place upon that very platform. 

And the time was quickly drawing near.

Allura turned once more, lifting her chin proudly as her eyes fell upon the camera that hovered before her. A slight triumphant smile danced upon her lips as she waited for her signal to address her Empire. Her scepter was pressed firmly into the ground beside her, and her eyes scanned the crowd who stood beyond the camera.

“Good evening to all, my glorious Al_Tean brothers and sisters!” She cried out, her smile extending with her arms that lifted eagerly over her head, “Welcome to our Imperium’s Bi-Millennial Imperial Festival!”

At this, she was met with many excited cheers. Her smile lingered as she set her arms back down by her side, her scepter returning once more to the ground. The camera hovered to the side as she continued with great charisma, speaking of immense patriotism and loyalty to her Imperium. Many of her statements were met with a plethora of cheers that only fed her own endless, underlying pride.

She laughed to herself, calling for more support from her dedicated audience. And the crowd responded accordingly.

In the midst of the excitement, there was subtle movement from a panel in the ground. It shifted slightly, rising just barely from its frame in the concrete. A pair of gloved hands pushed up against the covering, allowing a sliver of light to illuminate a hidden tunnel underneath. A young woman stood underneath the cap and held her breath as she peered through the crack in the hole she had created. She spat quietly onto a spot beside her on the tunnel floor. 

She clenched her jaw, lifting a pair of bulky goggles onto the top of her head. Her yellow, glowering eyes squinted against the harsh light that had suddenly illuminated the dense darkness of the tunnel. 

She let out a sigh, swiping at the sweat and dust that covered her rocky face. She glanced at another young woman that sat beside her on the slimy ground. Her head was half-shaven with the long side resting still on her sweaty shoulder. Her round goggles were strapped firmly around her head, glinting the light of a pad she held in her lap. 

“Pidge.” She muttered, “Any new movements from the Sky Fleet?”

The other woman shook her head, but her eyes didn’t lift to meet those of her partner. She was focused upon a small hologram that hovered over the small pad. The hologram was of an elegantly dressed queen- The Empress. 

She watched a 4D Holographic Rendering of the speech that was being given at that very moment.

“Nothing since Commander Holt’s last transmission.” She responded, running her fingers through her long, sweatily damp hair, “But I’ll be running an atmospheric scan in a few moments just in case the Gargalaxians have entered Al_Tean airspace.”

The first young woman turned once more and lifted a large pair of binoculars to her face. She peered into the holes on one side and out the other, twisting a few knobs of the handles to focus on a couple that stood quietly among a group of wealthy imperial citizens on a balcony overlooking the entire arena.

They were dressed in traditional Al_Tean Imperial garments, covered from head to toe in elaborately decorated white and gold clothing. They blended in effortlessly with the imperialistic natives. The girl holding the binoculars couldn’t help but smile.

Their plans seemed to be working thus far. But she could only hope that luck continued to be on their side through this mission. Their captured comrades depended on it.

Still standing firm on the platform, Lance lifted his chin as he stood by and watched his sister speak. He couldn’t help but feel proud of the nationalism that thrived within the Empire he was heir to. He said nothing of his emotion, however. He wasn’t permitted to.

Empress Allura’s eyes scanned the horizon as she searched carefully for the appearance of a certain gold encrusted vessel. She continued to speak to her attendees, preaching proudly of the many successful diplomatic affairs of the Imperium. 

She proclaimed the news of the most recent ground gained by their ever-growing Empire of Eternal Paradise, indulging endlessly in the overabundance of support that was poured out of the mouths of all those who stood before her.

“Shay. There’s been movement.” Pidge suddenly said, reaching out and gripping on her partner’s rough leg as she motioned to a large orb that slowly moved along the others in the diagram, “I think we found the Gargalaxians.”

At this, Shay turned from her binoculars. Her eyes widened.

“What?” She looked at the small diagram of moving dots that were projected in front of Pidge’s face, “Really?”

“Yes.” Pidge nodded, a tone of relief resting in her hushed voice, “And scans indicate that Tygra and Kring are following close behind the Gargalaxian mothership.”

“And Joxx?”

“Safe in position. I don’t think they’ve been discovered.”

Shay let out a breath, leaning against the wall of the tunnel. An exasperated smile graced her lips as she looked upon her companion. Pidge let out a tense snicker. She had seemed just as nervous as Shay was. 

“Well, what do you know?” Pidge looked up at Shay, “It seems like my extra-ass technology was good for something after all.”

Shay giggled slightly and lifted the binoculars back up to her face. She focused upon Nymah and Rolo once more. Their eyes were still raised to the sky, though they would glance down to the Empress on her stage every now and again. 

Pidge got to her feet, having shut down the pad she had been using to monitor the movement in the atmosphere, and also view the evangelistic transmission of the Empress that was being broadcasted to the entire Universe.

“We know they’re almost here… now just to wait.” Pidge whispered, standing close to Shay in an attempt to look through the small opening she had made to keep watch.

Nymah and Rolo stood close together, just barely visible to the spy troops scattered throughout the tunnels. Their eyes continued to glance upward and downward every few moments before they finally seemed to light up.

Nymah turned her head as to look out upon the crowd in a casual manner. She pulled on a chain that hung around her neck. She removed it, lifting a jewel toward the light in a way that made it seem as though she only simply wished to admire it. The light of the Al_Tean Sun glinted off of the crystal, catching Shay’s eye.

“That’s the signal.” She said, “Quick! Inform the other Ground Units, we need to prepare the escape pods!”

Pidge nodded and broke into a run. Over her head, she could hear the crowd began to roar with cheers and screams. High in the sky, an immense golden vessel loomed in the direction of the Celebration Arena. 

She could hear the roar of the engines overhead. She felt the floor tremble as the massive spacecraft hovered slowly through the sky of Al_Tea. Empress Allura’s voice just barely boomed over the noise of the shuttle.

“Al_Tean Brothers and Sisters!” She cried out to the gathered audience, “Please welcome to our Empire of Paradise, the Phloban of Gargalax!”

Lance closed his eyes and braced himself as the crowd burst into a grand chorus of cheers. The excitement was almost palpable. He stood in place, his eyes fixed forward despite his elated emotion. 

Suddenly, there was movement. Commander Hira had turned away from the Empress when a transmission suddenly came her way. It was from the Airspace Scouts. Lance could hear his commander curse under her breath.

That was enough evidence. He tightened his grip on his sword, having been sworn to wait until his assignment would be issued. He couldn’t alert the gathered citizens. Not unless lethal threats were reported. 

But he didn’t have to wait for an announcement. He already knew.

The Outer Zones were among them.

\----------

Pidge pulled out a small device that had been hooked onto the belt that hung around her waist. 

“Incoming. Incoming.” She cupped her hand around her mouth and spoke into the device, trying to speak over the continual roar of the people on the surface, “This is Pidge Gunderson of Ground Troop Oz. G-Reb troops Tygra and Kring, where are you?”

“This is Commander Holt reading you loud and clear.” A prompt and quick connection was made as Commander Holt’s voice sounded firmly through the static, “We are in proximity to the Gargalaxian Prison Escort.”

“Commander Holt, we’ve just caught sight of the Secondaries Signal and have begun to open the Ports of the-”

“Troops Kring! Joxx!” Commander Shirogane’s voice suddenly broke through Pidge’s transmission, “Do you have eyes on the Outer Zone Prisoners? We’ve gotta get a move on if we want to keep up our cover. These invisibility shields only last so long before recharge!”

Commander Olia sighed when a quiet alarm had begun to go off on a monitoring system that sat to her right in the small space within her shuttle. A notification had begun to pulsate on the system in the dashboard.

“Yeah, you’re not kidding…” She murmured, swiping the notification aside.

There was a brief pause as Commander Holt rolled back a metal panel over his head and pulled down a periscope from behind it. He peered inside and scrolled a couple levers on its sides, focusing in on the lowermost area of the magnificent vessel he followed. He pressed a button, the scope beginning to pick up natural heat from within in the forms of red and orange shapes.

They were prisoners of the Gargalaxians, scattered about the inner port. They were chained tightly to the walls of the inside, pressed tightly together in conditions that Matt couldn’t even try to imagine.

“Affirmative, Chief.” Commander Holt responded, “They’re currently in the cargo hold.”

“And Commander Olia. Are the Underground troops in motion?”

“Affirmative Chief.” Commander Olia reported, pressing a few buttons on her scanner, “Locking onto the intervention sight coordinates now. Pilot Nal, how are the charges of our Cloakers looking?”

“Quickly drifting, Commander.” A strong female voice replied promptly, “My calculations suggest a total of 5 doboshes remaining.”

“...then we’ll have to move quickly.” Commander Olia murmured.

“Keep us Joxx Pilots updated on your movements. Ever since the Gargalaxians entered the airspace, the Airspace Scouts have heavily increased their Patrols.”

“Roger that, Chief. Keep your transmissions open. We’re nearing the Phloban’s vessel now.”

“Vrepit Sa.”

The transmission then went quiet. 

Matt peered into the periscope once more and narrowed his eyes when he noticed a certain prisoner inside the cargo hold. It had a feminine figure and was strapped to a bulky set of chains that held her down to the wall behind her. Her helmeted head was bowed and her visor was cracked and chipped from an apparent struggle she had had. Her narrow eyes stared forward, lowered and sad.

Matt clenched his jaw when he saw her. He tightened his grip on the handles of the periscope, slipping it back behind the open panel that slid closed behind it.

“Don’t worry, Casca…” He murmured, taking a tight grip to the wheel in front of him once more, “We’re gonna get you and your men out of there. Just hang on a little longer.”

Matt leaned forward, pressing his shuttle into a slight nose dive. Olia did the same, mirroring her military partner almost perfectly. She tapped a button on the top of her scanner, transmitting a brief and hardly detectable signal to all the Outer Zone Fighters within the Cargo Holt.

One by one, their heads lifted up in the darkness as a wave of relief steadily overtook each prisoner. The helmeted girl was the first to notice the signal. 

“It’s the Sky Fleet.” A relieved young man breathed, “They’re here!”

Her eyes softened and gazed blankly in the direction it had come from. She listened closely for the sound of their engines over the deafening roar of the ship they sat within.

“G-Reb Troop Golix, get ready for rescue.” She murmured just barely loud enough to be heard by those around her, “Make room in the west edge of the port to allow room for boarding. We must move quickly so as not to be discovered.”

“Vrepit Sa.” was the uttered response.

“Alright, Miss Olly.” Commander Holt smirked to himself as his ship hovered around the outside area of the cargo hold, his thumbs hovering over a trigger stored within his steering wheel, “You ready to blow a hole in this town?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be, HotShot.” She responded, pulling down her periscope and peering into the port to get a look at the prisoners.

“Alright, Kringers! Time to prepare torpedos!” Commander Holt turned back to the other shuttles that had been following him, “Our invisibility cloaks can only hold out for so long, so this impact must be short and brutal! We must get in, get the prisoners, and get out before word of our breach reaches the Imperium!”

As if on cue, a small swarm of Kring vessels joined him in stationing and hovering around the area. They all prepared their torpedos at once. Commander Olia turned to her own troop, pulling down her periscope.

“Tygra Pilots, come in close and open those port hatches to catch those prisoners as they come! They know we’re here, and we need to be quick and swift!” She called, “Wait for my signal, all of you. We move as one!”

She turned back to her periscope, letting out a breath. She looked into the cargo hold once more, seeing that the prisoners had migrated to the opposite side of the port. She lifted a hand Commander Holt’s way, her eyes focused upon the movements inside.

“Alright, Troops.” She murmured, watching closely through the darkness, “On my command.”

A stiff moment of silence overtook the troops. All pilots had turned their attention to that of Commander Olia. Time nearly came to a standstill there in the airspace.

Commander Holt held his breath, anxiously awaiting her call.

“Now!”

At that very moment, a total of 16 torpedos made immediate contact with the side of the golden ship. A large hole had been blasted a gaping hole into the wall of the secured cargo hold. Light burst into the port, practically blinding the prisoners within.

“Alright, men. That’s our cue!!” Casca suddenly called out, making her way quickly to the gaping hole in the wall. She looked back, motioning to the small shuttles below her, “Let’s move, move, move!! We don’t have long. The Phloban knows we’re here, and soon, so will the Imperium!!”

Almost all at once, the prisoners jumped onto the open hatches of the shuttles that sat outside waiting for them. Casca continued to quickly urge them onward, her eyes staring straight at the interior entrance to the cargo hold. 

She could already sense the movements of the officers within the golden ship.

“Commander Olia!” A pilot suddenly called when the prisoner’s movements had suddenly halted unexpectedly, “Tygra Shuttles Dai, Olk, and Tau are at full capacity!”

Commanders Olia and Holt both turned to the remaining prisoners within the cargo hold. A group of 6 remaining prisoners stared at them from beside Commander Casca, holding each other up against the roaring wind. Casca locked eyes with Commander Holt, standing protectively beside her troop.

“Kringers, open your ports. Take the remaining prisoners into your cockpit and move quickly!” He called, dipping his shuttle forward once more and opening his own hatch as he waited for Commander Casca.

She leaned against the wall, her eyes still glancing uneasily back at the entrance. It had begun to roll open. Her men all turned and paled, seeing the sudden movement behind them. The Kring Shuttles hovered below the gaping hole. The pilots removed their hatches, making room in their cockpits for new passengers.

“We’re ready, Golix!” Commander Holt announced.

Commander Casca quickly signaled for them to jump. The prisoners, one by one, began to make their ways into the open hatches of the ships below them. 

Commander Casca glanced back again at the now completely open hatch at the entrance of the cargo hold. She paled, hearing the high pitched whir of the Gargalaxian Weaponry that the pilots had begun to fire their way.

The prisoners froze when they heard the synthetic whiz of bullets. The Gargalaxians had already made it into the cargo hold and were trying to shoot them down.

“Keep going!!” Commander Casca urged them onward, practically pushing them from the hold, “Get into the cockpits of the Kring Vessels! The Pilots will get you away!”

Suddenly, she let out a pained scream and stumbled forward as she brought her hand suddenly to several gaping holes that had been blasted into her shoulder and chest. She grimaced, clutching her wound that had begun to bleed profusely.

“Casca!!” Commander Olia shrieked.

Commander Holt paled and rushed his ship forward, letting his own hatch open. He flipped a switch, locking his ship’s systems to that of an opening in the Al_Tean ground that was just wide enough for his vessels to pass through.

Commander Casca fell forward and landed hard upon the ground of the ship. She groaned harshly, Commander Holt rushing to her side without a single moment’s notice. He sat her up and firmly pressed a thick cloth to her bleeding wounds, trying to control what he could.

He hurried to find the substances he needed to clean and sterilize the open wound. Commander Casca’s helmeted head fell forward. Commander Holt lay her back in a small opening toward the back of his cockpit.

“Commander Casca’s been hit!!” He called into his intercom to the rest of the pilots, “I’m trying to repair what I can, but I have very limited materials, and I don’t know what the extent of the damage is.”

“Then we need to proceed to the Underground and let them know what we’re dealing with” Commander Olia breathed, “Come on, men! We’ve gotta get out of here before any more damage is done!”

Commander Casca groaned quietly from where she lay. Commander Holt looked back at her, squeezing her hand briefly.

“I got you, Cass. We’re getting you help. Just hang in there.”

He released his hold and tried to move at a quicker pace, his eyes scanning the terrain below. They had to be getting close to the Underground entrance. Suddenly, his shuttle rocked. A large bullet had made heavy contact with the metal of his ship. 

The Gargalaxians had begun to deploy their fighter pilots.

“Commander Shirogane!” Commander Olia called through her intercom, “We’ve got the Prisoners, but the Cloakers have lost power and Commander Casca has been wounded. We need cover! Now!”

Hardly a moment had passed before she had received a reply.

“Roger that, Commander! We’re on our way!”

\----------

Lance’s eyes widened when the sound of an abrupt explosion reached his ears. The crowd’s cheers suddenly turned to horrified screams. Allura’s motivational speech had come to an abrupt halt as she turned to where the Gargalaxian Vessel had been.

A long trail of smoke had begun to escape from the bottom of the ship.

“Outer Zone Breach! There’s been an Outer Zone Breach!!” Commander Hira suddenly called out, having received an urgent report from the Airspace Scouts, “Land Patrols, come with me to the Sniper Tower! We need to shoot down those Outer Zone Rebels!”

Lance broke into a run alongside his Commander. He pulled a long rifle out from his tool belt, holding it close to him. He readied his blaster, reloading a new round into the ammo port. Davrik let out an excited cry as he joined his friend’s side.

The Prince looked at his Commander.

“How many Outer Zone Ships are we dealing with?” He called to her as they turned a corner, remaining in the tight formation.

“As of now, no one knows.” Commander Hira readied her own weapon - a large, bulky pistol - from her belt, “According to the Airspace Scouts, it seems they’ve begun to use new tech that had made them undetectable to their scanners.”

Lance didn’t respond. He turned to the sky once more and looked to the golden vessel that had suddenly gotten much closer than previously. He had begun to make out several smaller shapes that hovered close to the Gargalaxian Ship.

Outer Zone Vessels.

“Sniper Tower Control, this is Commander Hira of the Al_Tean Ground Patrols requesting access to the Gunmen Trenches!” Commander Hira breathed, turning a corner as Al_Tean Shuttle Engines roared in the nearby Mainland Hangar, “Respond immediately!”

“Roger that, Commander.” Lance heard a voice respond to her through his intercom, “Trenches Exus through Flee are open for infiltration.”

“Affirmative.” Commander Hira replied simply. 

She looked back at her troop, pulling out her own large weapon. 

“Men! Ready your weapons and prepare to shoot down the Rebel ships!” She called, before locking eyes with Lance, “Lieutenant, I need you to gather a troop and intercept the pilots we capture! Let’s move!!”

Lance nodded firmly, turning and stepping aside as the men behind him jumped into the trenches to shoot down the shuttles that rapidly neared their location. He pulled Davrik aside as well as a numerous amount of other men.

Commander Hira crouched in the trenches, her eyes lifted to the skies. She cursed under her breath when she saw what looked to be a second wave of Outer Zone warships looming through the sky.

They’d had their torpedos and blasters at the ready. Commander Hira pressed herself lower onto the dusty ground of the trench.

“Men! Stay low!!” She commanded to the crouched men, “We need to stay out of sight from the Outer Zone Fighter Pilots!”

Lance sunk to a low squat, holding his blaster close to him. His chosen men stuck close to him, all eyes turned to the approaching fleet.

“Now, tell me when.” Davrik murmured as a bloodthirsty grin stretched across his jagged lips.

Lance gripped his shoulder, shushing him gently. He pointed to a single pod that soared with the Outer Zone fleet. It was faster than all the others and always stayed close to the front of the fleet. It maneuvered with a level of skill Lance knew to be more than ordinary.

He lifted his hand and pointed to it.

“...That one.” He whispered to Davrik, who obediently aimed his blaster in its direction, “Shoot it down.”

Davrik smirked, closing one eye as he focused heavily upon the shuttle his Lieutenant pointed out. Lance held his breath, his eyes trained in the same direction.

“On my command.”

\----------

Hardly a moment had passed following the end of the transmission before the entire group of Joxx Pilots had exploded forward from where they had been stationed. Their Cloakers had worn off since their arrival, but none had seemed to care. 

Their focus was stationed primarily upon that of their colleagues that needed their help.

Commander Shirogane took the lead. His small shuttle soared this way and that, carting around Al_Tean vessels that had been issued with the mission to take him down. His troop trailed behind him, darting like small dark-colored bullets against the bright blue Al_Tean skyline.

Commander Shirogane flipped a switch, his eyes still fixed forward.

“Remain vigilant, Joxx Pilots!! We need to find our colleagues and get them out!” He called firmly, “Use the method of expansion to cover more ground! Ready your torpedos for necessary assault! Get your eyes on Troops Kring and Tygra, and don’t lose sight of them! We need to ensure their safety!”

Dai 2 leaned forward, pressing his wheel forward as he felt the sudden thrust of his engines. His eyes quickly scanned the incoming skyline. Droves of Al_Tean Pilots had taken to the sky now. Dai 2 looked down at his scanner. His furry ears pressed against his head and he cursed under his breath. 

They were in trouble. The Al_Tean Troops vastly outnumbered theirs. 

“Troop Joxx! Does anyone have sights on the Rescue Vessels??” Commander Shirogane called, his voice loud with slight impatience. He too had taken notice of the odds of the situation.

“Yes, Commander!” called suddenly, “Forwarding Coordinates to all other Joxx Pilots now!”

Commander Shirogane let out a sigh of relief but was interrupted by the sounds of bullets on metal. He looked out, seeing the machine guns hanging from the bottom of the Al_Tean ships. His eyes widened.

“The Al_Tean Pilots have begun firing!!” He called, locking his ship’s systems upon the coordinates he received from Bal 7, “We need to go! Go! Go!!”

Dai 2 looked down when his scanner began to glow. A series of coordinates had been relayed to his systems as well. Without a single moment of hesitation, he tapped on the location and burst forward in that direction. He winced when his engine suddenly was hit with heavy fire from underneath.

“Agh, Quiznack!” Dai 2 cursed as he tried to steady his shuttle, “Commander! There’s fire from the ground too!”

Commander Shirogane looked over to his shuttle, seeing a trail of smoke emerge from Dai 2’s engine. He ducked when another large, bulky bullet interrupted his vision, just barely missing his shuttle.

“Tau 3! Report on Imperium Ground Movements!” Commander Shirogane called, “Don’t keep the Troop in the dark, what are we dealing with??”

“Imperium Snipers and Soldiers. They’re hidden in trenches below, armed with weapons I can’t recognize.” Tau 3 reported, “Likely a new Olkarion Model.”

Olk 5 growled under his breath.

“Joxx? Where the hell are you?!” Commander Olia’s voice broke through static once more, “We need cover now! We can’t take much more damage!”

“We read you, Kring.” Commander Shirogane said in a single breath, “You’re in our sights now.”

At this, the Joxx pilots darted forward, trying to break the distance in as little time as possible. Moments later, their comrades came into view. Commander Shirogane flipped a switch over his head as a large gun emerged from the bottom of his shuttle.

“There they are. Men, ready your weapons!” He commanded, “We need to take down the Imperium Pilots before they do us! Protect your comrades at all costs. We need to get them out of here!”

As he spoke, the pilots promptly manned their weapons, releasing heavy fire onto the enemy shuttles that surrounded their allies. Commander Shirogane blasted harshly at a trio of ships that had closed in upon Commander Holt’s shuttle.

“Commander Holt!” He called, “How’s Casca holding up?!”

“Uh, she could be better!” Commander Holt responded, holding a half-conscious female Commander in his arms. 

He’d been holding a cloth to her wound for as long as he could, but at this point, it had become saturated with blood. He had tried talking to her to keep her conscious and alert, but nothing seemed to rouse her at this moment.

“Her wound is really bad, Chief! I’ve tried treating the wound with the first aid I have onboard, but it’s not enough. The new bullets they’re using seem to be eating into deeper into her flesh!!”

“Then we need to contact Command Center and tell them to ready the ward for another war casualty.” Commander Shirogane noted, “Olk 7!”

“O-On it!” Olk 7 breathed, blasting an Imperium Shuttle out of the sky.

“Commander Olia!” Commander Shirogane barked once more, “Any word from the Ground Spies?!”

“They’ve readied the Escape route through the Underground Tunnels.” She promptly responded, “They’re waiting on us.”

“Good.” Commander Shirogane breathed, relieved, “I think I see the hangar doors opening now.” 

Dai 2 laughed to himself, relaxing the tense hold he had had on his steering wheel.

“Fantastic.” He sighed, a slight grin on his face, “...we just might actually make it out of thi-”

But suddenly, there was a loud explosion. Dai 2’s transmission was cut as his ship took a lethal blow. Dai 2 let out a surprised cry as he was thrown forward in his cockpit. He roared as he held a now bleeding cut that had been made on his head.

He growled loudly, grappling violently with his control panel that had proceeded to go out of control. One of his thrusters had been blown off and his ship began to plummet quickly toward the ground.

“Dai 2’s been hit!” Tau 3 called.

“Keith!” Commander Shirogane cried, horrified, “No!”

\----------

Dai 2 growled loudly, wrestling with the trembling steering wheel. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the twinge of pain he felt from a gaping gnash that had been made in the flesh of his now singed arm.

“No! No! No!” He roared, his eyes widening as he saw the ground rapidly approaching his ship. He squeaked, bracing himself as he made contact with it with a deafening boom.

“Got him!” Davrik cheered, pumping his fist.

Lance broke into a run as soon as he saw the blast make contact with the shuttle. He made his way toward the crash site, readying his blaster in case the Rebel would try anything when he arrived. His men followed in hot pursuit, led by an overexcited Private. Lance glanced back at his group.

“Move quickly!” He commanded, a slight pant underlying his statements, “We can’t let him get away. Block any exit points he may use to get away. We cannot let him escape!”

Not long after his commands had been issued, he had sight on the fallen ship. He narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on the blaster he held in his arms. 

“Spread out! Disperse!” He continued, “Davrik! Fruxari! Follow me!”

“Aye!” Davrik called in unison with the voice of a light green female alien that promptly met his side.

Lance continued head-on into the clearing, jumping onto the hood of the crashed shuttle. He looked inside to see a Galra Pilot that glared right back up at him. He paused when he saw the glowing yellow eyes of the individual before him. His face changes almost imperceptibly.

Nothing changes but his eyes. Something about this pilot stood out to him - though he took no time to dwell on his confusion. 

As quickly as he’d stooped, Lance drove his blaster into the glass windshield. He held it inches from the Rebel’s face.

“You are under Imperial Arrest, Outer Zone Rebel.” He barked, jumping back as Davrik and Fruxari yanked the pilot from his cockpit, “As a criminal of the Empire, the Imperium can and shall decide your fate and your rights to be respected.”

The pilot growled, struggling against the Al_Tean guards that violently threw him into electric handcuffs.

“It's not like you would have respected those rights anyway.” He spat callously, “You’ve all been corrupted by whatever Paradise this is.”

Lance’s glare only intensified at this. His eyes drifted down the pilot’s uniform until he found a name tag. Something of an identity. 

G-Reb Pilot Dai 2

“Dai 2.” He said smugly, leaning into the Rebel’s face, “You’re under Imperial Arrest. If you try to resist or retaliate, we will obliterate you.”

Dai 2 spat in his face, his anger only on the verge of overflowing now. Fruxari let out a cry, driving her Electrocution Stick firmly into his forearm. Dai 2 let out a sudden roar, his head snapping back. A throbbing, glowering scar appeared on his arm, pulsating numbly.

“That was not only a threat.” Her dark, harsh voice growled as she held the electric end over the wound.

Davrik snickered to himself.

Lance wiped the saliva from his face. He began to walk back in the direction of the trenches to report back to Commander Hira. His men followed close behind, led by the newly acquired Outer Zone prisoner.

“Commander Hira.” He spoke into the microphone built into his helmet, “This is Lieutenant Lance reporting in from the Rebel Shuttle Crash Site.”

“Reading you loud and clear, Lieutenant. Were there any captured prisoners?”

Lance glance back at Dai 2.

“Affirmative. In the rubble, we were able to salvage a single survivor.” He stated, turning his back to the prisoner once more, “He goes by Dai 2.”

“Excellent. A single Prisoner far surpasses none.”

“Were we able to capture any other rebels in the attack?”

“Regrettably, no. The other rebels escaped with the Gargalaxian Prisoners.”

Dai 2’s eyes turned up to the blue sky when he heard this. The action from before had died down. The Gargalaxian Prison Ship had land and was being repaired. The pilots had taken now to patrolling the lower levels of the atmosphere in search of any remaining rebels. It was quiet. The intensity had faded to practically nothing.

The Rebels had gotten away.

“Though this Dai 2 individual that you speak of seems to hold quite a bit of promise. Bring him to me. I want to turn him into the Empress myself.”

“Noted, Commander Hira.” Lance nodded, glancing at the soldiers behind him, “We are on our way.”

At this, the troop began to march forward. Lance lingered, entering the formation behind the Davrik and Fruxari. He lightly gripped the shoulder of both.

“Davrik. Fruxari.” His voice was low yet firm, “Take the lead. Let me hold the prisoner until we meet Commander Hira.”

Dai 2 growled, sheathing his claws. 

“Down, boy.” Davrik snapped, “We burned your forearm. Don’t make us take it off.”

“Private.” Lance interrupted, tightening his grip briefly as he reached forward for the bound arms of the prisoner, “Let me handle him.”

Davrik glanced back at him, raising an eyebrow. Fruxari looked at Davrik out of the corner of her bright green eyes. A brief moment passed the three of them as they marched in sync with the others. 

Davrik finally loosened his grip and stepped forward, followed promptly by Fruxari. They walked forward, leading the troop back to the trenches. Lance gripped the prisoner’s arms tightly.

Dai 2 stared forward, his eyes narrowed. The scar on his arm continued to throb and pulse, and the cuffs he wore only made things worse by rubbing against the tender wound. Lance tightly gripped the prisoner’s forearm, feeling the deep burn Fruxari had made in the furry flesh.

He rested a hand upon it, quickly and quietly mending the burn until there was nothing but a small scar left from the injury. Dai 2 grunted in slight surprise, glancing back at him. Lance only stared ahead without giving him a passing glance. 

He remained silent for a few moments, not wishing to draw any attention to what he had just done.

“Now don’t get any ideas, slave...” He finally whispered, his harsh tone disguising his kind actions, “...But we’re not all heartless here.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, everyone!
> 
> I'm very excited to announce that I was able to complete the next chapter in time for 2019, but before we begin I wanted to take note of a couple things:
> 
> 1\. The reason that the spelling of Altea has been altered to "Al_Tea" is mostly symbolic. In this Universe, Empress Allura views the last generation of Alteans (and their predecessors) as a weak and insubordinate. She even considers her father to be a failed king because it was during his rule that Altea first fell. After bringing down Zarkon, Allura vowed to create a new Altea - one that would be populated by a new Imperial Generation that would be the strongest in all the universe. The space placed in the middle of the words associated with Altea is supposed to represent this - the gap between the old, weak generation and the new, strong generation.*
> 
> *This can also be considered a symbol of the 10,000-year gap that existed between the end of the Altean kingdom and the founding of the Al_Tean Empire* 
> 
> 2\. Every single scene I illustrate within this fanfic is placed for a reason. Whether it be for subtle foreshadowing purposes or just to highlight a character trait I will bank on later, each moment - regardless of how important (or not) it may seem, each scene is significant to the story. Just bare with me, it'll all make sense in the end. I promise ;)
> 
> Alrighty! Now that I've gotten all that out the way, let's begin. I hope you enjoy!!

A group of individuals walked briskly down the long corridors of the Al_Tean Palace. They wore elaborate garments of blue and gold - the uniform color scheme of the Al_Tean Elites. Before them, long stained glass windows of ancient scenes doused the tile floors in extraordinary hues of greens, blues, pinks, and golds. 

The group strode down the crystalline halls in the direction of the Imperial Throne Room. They moved with great urgency, for they had no time to waste. The Empress was going to return to the Imperial Throne Room very soon - and each of them understood that she was not going to be happy.

A single figure walked at the head of the migrating group, his eyes fixed firmly forward. He was dressed in the gold and blue metallic armor of the Al_Tean Guard. He walked briskly along with his robed peers. His Al_Tean markings stretched vastly across his blue-ish face, signifying his high status. A monocle hung from his eye.

A tall woman with smooth, gray skin walked behind him. She was taller than most other women in the group, though she still was a few inches shorter than the man before her. Her gray face was slender and long with softly glowing, diamond-shaped eyes. She stepped lightly, the sandals on her feet barely making a sound as they hit the polished floor. Her six arms swung together in a single beat - in perfect unison with her paces. 

She said nothing as they walked forward, for she was listening to the hot debate of her peers who paced behind her while she herself gave silent consideration to the scene that was to take place upon the return of the Empress.

A man with pale, green eyes and static-like streaks on his face tapped the shoulder of the man up front. He wielded a short staff in his hand that glowed a soft, green hue. He glared forward at the robed man 

“Master Sergeant Trayling. You had complete control of the Al_Tean Airspace.” He firmly stated, jabbing his scepter into the back of the man before him, “Your men were the ones responsible for the escape of those rebels. Are you not going to make a statement?”

“I have sworn an oath of silence until I stand in the presence of the Empress.” Trayling flatly stated, “I answer to her and her alone.”

“Ah ha, the classic ‘oath of silence’ excuse.” The man snickered, glancing back at the robed figures behind him, “Even so, I can’t wait to see how you handle this one, Trayling.”

The woman standing behind Trayling gritted her teeth together and shot him a look. She swiped at his stubby scepter and glared.

“Imperial Advisor Vilim. Apparently, this punishment is not yours to decide upon.” She snapped, putting forth the effort not to raise her voice at the agitating little man, “The rebel movements were rapid and spontaneous, which practically set up Sergeant Trayling to make a few impulsive decisions, even if they weren’t exactly favorable.”

“Oh, so you’re coming to defend this failed Sergeant?!” Advisor Vilim retorted, sure to place heavy emphasis upon the word, “Grand Admiral Philomena, I-”

“Vilim, I’m simply stating that you have no right to judge his actions or his punishment in any way, shape, or form.” The woman, Philomena, interrupted him, “This case is for the Empress to deal with - not you.” 

The group of advisors behind them had gone quiet once she had spoken. The majority of those present had learned not to challenge the Grand Admiral for many reasons. She had been very close to the Empress since before the founding of the Imperium and generally had more power than any other advisor in the court. 

After a moment of silence, Philomena turned away from the advisors. She locked eyes with Trayling, who graciously nodded her way. She simply smiled before stepping into the massive throne room that loomed before them.

The room stretched before them like a wide extension of the corridor they had only just exited. The walls extended upward in such a way that the arches of the roof seemed to tower endlessly above them. The room extended forward boundlessly, lined with monumental murals of intricate scenes of Al_Tean history. 

The group stepped onto the silver and blue carpet that extended from the entrance all the way to a massive throne of blue and gold. Elaborate swirls and designs had been etched into the solid gold metal that seemed to flamboyantly expand beyond the velvet cushioning of the throne. Words in ancient Al_Tean had been intricately scrawled into the headboard of the seat. 

Underneath them, a translation recited the same phrase: “Tranquility through order. Order through law.”

The group began to disband along the lengthy carpet. Each advisor knelt quietly in the lush carpeting beneath them. Grand Admiral Philomena stopped closest to the throne, kneeling beside a silent Master Sergeant Trayling. 

She bowed her head in unison with the advisors that followed her, holding her tongue as the sound of rapidly clicking heels began to echo from down the hall. Master Sergeant Trayling braced himself as did all other advisors present.

“Sergeant Trayling!!” A shrill voice suddenly roared from the entrance of the expansive room.

The Sergeant’s head lifted automatically. His eyes locked with a pair that glared down upon him. They were narrow and sharp with a liner that glistened at the corners in a perfect slit. In preparation for the grand ceremony, her eyes had been heavily done up, making her gaze had become more penetrable than the Imperium’s sharpest blade.

The Sergeant could feel his anxious heart pulse in his throat. He stood up straight upon hearing his name, lifting his hand in firm salute to his Empress. He said nothing, bracing himself for the inevitable fury he was to come into contact with.

The Empress stormed his way, her heels stabbing into the crystalline floors underneath her. She was followed by a silent group of 4 uniformed bodyguards who had somehow been able to keep up with her long strides. They separated without a single sound, dividing themselves into 2 lines that extended the lines begun by the kneeling advisors.

Empress Allura stabbed a finger into Trayling’s chest, her teeth gritting behind her snarling lips.

“I gave you full control of the Airspace of Al_Tea.” She snapped, her voice a low mutter that brimmed with an eerie fury, “I gave you complete command of the Airspace Scouts. You held the responsibility of keeping our newly acquired allies secure from those Outer Zone Rebels.”

Trayling stayed quiet, not breaking eye contact with his Empress. She paced, the train of her dress fluttering behind her with each quick movement. Philomena lifted her eyes silently to meet Trayling’s. As the Highest Advisor on the Imperial Court, she felt she needed to say something on his behalf.

“Your majesty, I apologize,” Trayling spoke up while the Empress hovered in his face, “I acted impulsively and cost us a large number of valuable servants.”

“Servants? Servants?!” Allura roared, fighting the urge to slap the officer that stood before her, “You think I’m angry over a bunch of worthless prisoners we were going to work to death anyway?!”

“Your Highness.” Philomena responded in an attempt to keep Empress Allura from striking her officer unkindly, “I think-”

“Silence!” Allura stomped her foot and whipped her gaze to Philomena, “The Empress speaks!”

Philomena’s head bowed once more. She held her tongue, but only because she considered the more reasonable behavior was as such. She didn’t wish to challenge the fiery Empress any more than she had to.

In the same breath she used to snap at Philomena, Allura turned right back to Trayling, her fury now too immense to contain quietly.

“When those rebels penetrated our atmosphere, we lost more than just a meaningless band of war prisoners.” She growled sharply, her voice growing louder and louder as she continued to speak, “We lost more than just a small group of laborers - Sergeant Trayling, because of your complete arrogance, we have lost one of the most important alliances we have ever curated in all Al_Tean History!!”

Now, her nose was inches away from his. Her finger now jabbed into the Master Sergeant’s chest plate. Her face contorted with a fury that was practically demonic. Trayling said nothing while the Empress continued her rampage.

“As a matter of fact, thanks to your blatant ignorance, the Imperial Court has just received an enraged bill of resignation from the Phloban of Gargalax.” She whipped a small slip of paper out from the skirt of her dress. It dripped with gold stardust - a signature substance of the Gargalaxian trade.

A brief murmur overtook the present group of kneeling advisors. Their eyes lifted to rest upon the paper as they began to take in the grave concern of the situation.

“Yes. The Phloban herself.” Allura spat, her voice suddenly softening in such a way that chills crawled up the spines of all those present. She glanced down at the slip, pacing while her fingers trembled, trailing about the trim of the paper. 

“In this small, seemingly insignificant note, I have just read through the death wish of our Empire!” Allura exploded, “Master Sergeant, do you realize what you’ve brought upon us?! Do you understand the complications that can and will arise due to your lack of intelligence?!”

Trayling stepped back, bowing his head in complete submission. Allura had to visibly put forth effort not to rip into the bill she held tightly in her hand. She let out a trembling breath, having to turn her back to the Sergeant just to regain her sanity.

She crossed her arms, her fingers discolored with how tightly she gripped herself.

“Trayling, this celebration is the most important holiday in the Imperial Calendar.” She growled, her voice practically trembling with the burning fury within her, “It’s a time to celebrate our expansion and success as an Empire. A time to assure our citizens and residents of their security under the protection of the greatest military force in the Universe.”

“For the last thousand years, I have worked to create the foundation that would support an Empire of Unity that would last longer than the Galra Empire ever did. Before the fall of Zarkon, I worked tirelessly to create a place of paradise for all peoples.” The Empress explained, “And even after I defeated Zarkon and restored order, the Empire lacked something. A source of support that would go unquestioned by all. A system that would lock the Imperium into its rightful place. And for centuries, I pursued that Ally…” 

She slowly glanced back at the silent Master Sergeant.

“But you’re a smart man, Sergeant.” She uttered, turning the paper between her fingertips, “Put two and two together. Who do you think I’ve relentlessly pursued for all these years?”

Trayling’s eyes widened and he glanced down at Philomena, who closely watched the Empress. She read her movements, ready to interrupt on Trayling’s behalf in case Allura’s actions became too violent in taste.

“Trayling.” Allura’s booming voice echoed about the room as she snapped her fingers in his direction, “I await an answer.”

“...The Gargalaxians.” Trayling responded hesitantly after having swallowed a huge lump that had formed in his throat.

“That’s right. One of the most powerful military forces in all the Universe has pulled its support from the Imperium before we could even show our appreciation.” Allura’s voice dripped with a fury so thick one could cut it with a knife, “We’ve lost our war prisoners and a major support group all at once, and All because of the lack of effort on our Master Sergeant’s part!”

Now, Allura was practically overwrought with rage. She gritted her teeth and squeezed her scepter to keep from throwing it at the officer that stood behind her. Her eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to keep her composure. She took a deep breath, shuddering with stifled anger.

“And then we failed to capture any of the rescuers who breached our security in the first place.” She finally spoke after a moment of tense silence, “Despite having countless ground troops of snipers and knights whose only job is to shoot our opponents from the sky, they all escaped!”

Philomena glanced over at Vilim, who had had complete control of the Al_Tean Ground Troops. His head had lifted when he heard these words escape Allura’s mouth. He dreaded having to face her fury in the Master Sergeants place - though she said not a word to him.

“After hearing of your behavior on the field today, I ought to have you punished, Trayling.” Allura suddenly roared, whipping around to look at each of her present advisors, “As a matter of fact, after the events of today, I ought to have you all skinned!!!”

Philomena’s eyes suddenly widened when she’d noticed a pulsating light from beside the throne. It had been emitted from a small, handheld device that lay on a table situated beside the immense chair. It was a transmission that begged Allura’s attention, though she seemed to have overlooked it.

While the Empress continued to speak, Philomena took to her feet, hardly making a sound. She made her way to the small table and picked up the device. She peered into a small screen that displayed a notification.

“Is this the destiny of the Imperium we’ve worked so hard to create?!” She heard Allura boom, “To buckle at the hands of a bunch of no good intergalactic gangsters who have no understanding of law and order?!”

“Your Highness!” Philomena suddenly spoke up, interrupting Allura’s tangent. Allura looked back, ready to spit her way before Philomena showed her the device she held, “It’s a message from Commander Hira. I think it may be a report from the battlefield.”

Allura’s head swiveled back to face Trayling once more. He’d said nothing while she spoke, and she had been ready to rip right into him. She jabbed her scepter into the ground and demanded that he kneel, to which the silent officer eagerly obliged.

The lines of kneeling advisors watched as Allura snatched the device from Philomena’s hands and pushed a button. As she did so, a holographic image of a woman’s face appeared. She had short, pink hair and donned the Al_Tean Uniform as she always did.

“My Empress.” Her voice was firm yet smooth even through the speakers of the holographic device, “I come with news.”

“Commander Hira.” Allura snapped, her anger still lingering in her words, “What is it?!”

“Excuse me for the intrusion, your majesty. But I come with pleasing news from the Battlefield.” She reported, “We’ve managed to shoot down a Rebel Pilot from the Outer Zone Rescue Squadron that breached our atmosphere.”

For a brief moment, Allura’s eyes softened with slight relief. It was refreshing to have discovered that not everything had been lost. Trayling let out a silent sigh of relief when the realization of Commander Hira’s report had finally set in. 

Philomena stood behind the Empress, her hands folded behind her back. The corners of her lips curved upward in silent amusement as the intensity of the atmosphere began to soften with Commander Hira’s revelation.

“You have?” Allura responded, shifting her grip on her scepter.

“Yes, my Empress.” Commander Hira’s holographic head nodded, her firm voice sounding clearly through the speakers of the handheld device, “He goes by Dai 2 among his Galra peers, though we have yet to find out his true identity.”

“Has the captive been injured in any way?” Allura promptly returned.

“Not fatally, my Empress.” Hira’s face glitched briefly as the connection was momentarily interrupted, “There have been reports of a struggle upon impact, but no fatal wounds were recorded aside from a ripe scar on his forearm.”

“Rebel or Imperial Causes?” Allura practically interrupted her officer.

“We believe he was struck by an Imperial Tazing Wand.” The Commander answered accordingly, “Probably because he showed some resistance to being arrested.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Allura rolled her eyes and muttered to herself before speaking up once more, “Have your men bring Dai 2 to me. I would like to get a look at this new man-slave before we decide his fate.”

“Aye, my Empress.” Commander Hira nodded, her hologram glitching ever so slightly with her movements, “We’ll be right over.”

“Good.” Allura blinked before shutting the device off. The hologram disappeared, and she gently placed the small gadget upon the table beside the throne once more.

Another brief moment of silence passed those gathered in the throne room. Empress Allura still had her back to Master Sergeant Trayling, who said nothing. The six Al_Tean guards who had followed Allura into the throne room watched her attentively, as did the advisors who knelt in the Empress’ presence. 

“Trayling,” Allura stated flatly, having not forgotten the rash decisions that had been made by her senior officer, “You are dismissed.”

At this, the Master Sergeant crossed his right arm across his chest and bowed.

“Yes, My Empress.” He saluted her with the utmost respect, “Th-Thank you.”

He turned on his heels and began to march out of the throne room. He had only taken a few steps when Allura suddenly snatched a series of small throwing knives from the sheath of a nearby guard. Philomena’s eyes widened and she reached forward to stop her but was too silent - and too late.

In a single motion, Allura had thrown the knives at the officer. They barely clipped his ears, stabbing into the wall of the room. They jutted from the flawless surface in the exact shape of Trayling’s head.

Trayling froze, his eyes widening as he felt the sharp weapons barely graze his skull. He held his breath as the Empress pulled another round of knives from a second knight that stood nearby. Allura glared his way, a bloodthirsty smile coming to her face.

“Trayling. I command you to turn around.” She called, her harsh tone sharper than the weapons she utilized, “Now.”

The officer promptly turned on his heels, his wide eyes locking securely with Allura’s. She fingered the blade of one of the small weapons, eyeing him from where she stood. Trayling could see his reflection in the polished metal of the knife.

“Since this is your first Imperial Offense, I am willing to let you get off easy.” The Empress uttered, her tongue curling around her words like that of a stalking snake, “But mark my words, Trayling. If you step out of line again, I just might have your head on a stick displayed at the very center of Al_Tea. And everyone in the Imperium will know of your mistakes - and what they cost us.”

The trigger-happy Empress lifted a blade his way, holding them close to her face as though she were aiming at a delicately shaped target. She closed a single eye, tilting her head as she calculated his distance.

“...Do I make myself clear, officer?” Her infuriated utter drifted through the air, sending chills down The Master Sergeant’s spine. 

He stepped back, afraid to speak out of turn for fear of losing his head with the smallest motion. Her look cut effortlessly through him despite the distance that existed between the two of them. He held his breath, his fear practically palpable.

“I said Do I make myself clear?!” The Empress’ voice suddenly raised, echoing about the room as she prepared to launch the knives again.

“Y-Yes, My Empress!” Trayling saluted once more, backing away before she could release the sharp knives his way, “M-My apologies! It will not happen again!”

“Get out of here, Sergeant.” Empress Allura growled, lowering the weapons once more, “You disgust me.”

But the officer had not heard his Empress’s comment. He had already been halfway down the corridor to the front doors of the Palace.

\----------

Meanwhile, the people of Al_Tea had since emerged from where they had gone to hide during the rebel ambush. As the dust began to settle, citizens regained their composure and returned to the streets. Some resumed their celebratory activities while others went about their day in a more vigilant manner for fear that the rebels would strike once more.

As the people took to the streets following the unwelcome interruption, one couldn’t help but notice a sense of unease hanging in the air. For as the celebration began to regain its previous momentum, news of an unwelcome guest began to quickly spread among the Al_Tean citizens. 

And before long, their suspicions would be confirmed. As the citizens resumed the festivities, an Imperial troop marched through the streets in the direction of the Sniper Tower not far from their location. Among them walked a captured rebel pilot who had been bound by the prince himself. 

Muzzled and handcuffed harshly by the surrounding knights, the pilot walked silently along as citizens looked upon him with pitiless disgust. They murmured amongst themselves as the armored officers walked in perfect formation down the paved streets. Young children hid behind their mothers who looked on in grave distaste for the unwelcome captive.

In the midst of their contempt, however, each of them showed solemn respect for the prince who held him in place. For when the Prince’s eyes met their own, they bowed to honor his capture - his prize. 

The troop marched in silence, showing no attention to the hateful crowd. Lance continued to hold Dai 2’s arms in place, severely limiting the rebel’s movements. Dai 2 glared forward from behind the muzzle they had placed over his nose and mouth. He too paid no attention to the negative responses given to him from the crowd.

He didn’t expect anything different from the people who found false refuge in the care of his oppressive enemies.

In the next few moments, the troop would exit the marketplace and enter a grassy clearing where a second troop was headed right for them. At the head of the group marched Commander Hira, who took one look at the prisoner and smiled to herself. She too had begun to fear that they would return to the Empress with a captive that was less than desirable.

The troops met at the middle of the clearing. Davrik and Fruxari, the two soldiers who headed the prince’s troop, stepped to the side to let Lance step forward with the rebel pilot. Commander Hira crossed her arms when she saw the new captive. She glanced at Lance with a lingering smirk on her lips.

“Hm. Impressive catch, Lieutenant.” She nodded, reaching forward to inspect the prisoner who stood tensely before her, “You’ve managed to get a beast like him to submit to you. And there’s hardly a scratch on him. How did you do it?”

“Precision and accuracy.” Lance glanced graciously at Davrik, who stood attentively beside him, “Private Davrik was able to blow the engines of Dai 2’s shuttle without bringing about any damage to the main vessel. Once the engines were gone, he was all ours.”

Commander Hira locked eyes with Private Davrik, who seemed to stand taller once he heard what the prince had to say about his behavior upon the battlefield. She placed a hand upon her hip and patted his shoulder.

“Well, Private Davrik. I applaud you.” Commander Hira spoke, “If only you had as much control over your mouth as you do your trigger...”

At this, a few of the gathered soldiers chuckled amusedly. Davrik held his tongue, though his habit was usually to lash out verbally at his Commander. Instead, he remained focused - save for a brief eye roll. 

After a few moments, the Commander leaned into the face of Dai 2. The prisoner growled at her, sheathing his claws from behind his back. 

“And he’s even managed to get muzzled.” Hira noted aloud before locking eyes with Lance once more, “And might I inquire as to how this happened?”

His eyes narrowed. Had it not been for the uncomfortable muzzle on his face, he would have probably taken a bite out of the Commander’s nose - or better yet, had taken her whole face off. 

“The captive has done nothing… yet.” Lance responded simply, continuing to confine the prisoner, “But due to the history the Imperial Troops have with newly acquired rebels… we wished to take all precautions necessary.”

Hira lingered for a moment. Dai 2 never tore his eyes from the Imperial Commander. A low growl began to rumble in his throat. At this, Commander Hira playfully tapped the muzzle.

“Oh, we’ve found ourselves a feisty rebel, haven’t we?” Commander Hira tapped the muzzle gently - but harshly enough to drive it deeper into his nose and mouth, “Careful, slave. The harder you try to open that trap of yours, the tighter the muzzle will get.”

Dai 2’s eyes only narrowed further. It took every ounce of bodily effort to refrain from ripping into her. The muzzle continued to clamp around his mouth and nose, digging into his face. He gritted his teeth in a sneer, silently wincing as he felt the clamp suddenly tighten.

“Alright, men. I’ve notified the Empress regarding our new prisoner, and she currently expects us in the Imperial Throne Room.” Commander Hira said after a moment of silence, “Let us not keep her waiting.”

The present soldiers began to file into line. Lance remained at the back, having not moved his hands from the cuffs of the prisoner he held. Commander Hira marched to the front of the formation.

And with a final salute to their commander, the troop proceeded in the direction of the Al_Tean Palace.

\---------

Within the walls of the Al_Tean Palace, things had begun to simmer down. Since her enraged confrontation with the Master Sergeant, the Empress had taken to her throne to discuss current affairs with her court of advisors. 

Philomena had taken to stand beside the throne, her six hands folded neatly behind her back. As head Imperial Advisor, she had been given the responsibility of guiding the Empress in making all of her decisions. 

She listened intently to their conversations, glancing between advisor and Empress as they spoke. Each advisor stood stiffly in place. They stared up at the Empress and spoke as though this meeting was an ordinary convention. But given the circumstances, it was anything but. And none of the advisors wished to further the discussion of the day’s events.

“...Have the mainland citizens caught wind of the Gargalaxian Resignation?” Empress Allura finally popped the question after a brief moment of silence.

The advisors went quiet for a moment. Imperial Advisor Vilim, who stood toward the front, raised his short scepter to speak. Allura nodded simply, motioning towards him.

“Reports suggest that rumors have begun to circulate regarding said resignation.” He stiffly responded, fearing his Empress’s response, “Though we are unsure that any true announcements have been made.”

“Then make no announcements.” Empress Allura stated without a moment of hesitation, “Our citizens are easily molded - counter those rumors with our own, suggesting the precise opposite.”

Philomena looked at her, her head tilted slightly at the sound of her Empress’ proposal. She stepped forward, raising her chin to speak.

“But your highness…” She looked upon her questionably, “...That would be considered lying to your people.”

“Oh, Philomena.” Empress Allura glanced at her with a slight shrug, “It’s only considered a lie if the truth is uncovered.”

At this, Philomena stepped back and blinked questionably. Behind Allura’s back, Vilim’s jaw dropped. The advisors exchanged concerned looks with those around them. They all wanted to say something, but they were stopped when a knight marched into the room. 

He was dressed in the clad of the Imperial Guard, sporting a uniform that was quite identical to that of Commander Hira. He marched firmly into the crystalline throne room, his cerulean cape falling gently behind him as he stepped together in the middle of the lines of advisors.

“My Empress.” He swiftly took a single knee in front of the throne, crossing his arm over his chest in salute, “I request permission to speak.”

“At ease, Commander Vorian.” The empress lifted her hand and nodded slightly, “I grant you permission.”

The Commander got to his feet once more, standing with impeccable posture before his monarch. Philomena continued to stand silently aside the throne, her shock having subsided since the officer’s entrance.

“My Empress, I come with news from Commander Hira.” Commander Vorian stated firmly, “She and her troop have returned to the palace, and they bring a new prisoner with them. They await your intervention.”

Allura’s head tilted once she heard these words. A slight grin came to her face when she remembered the message she had received from Commander Hira. She leaned back in her throne, resting her scepter across her lap. 

“Return to Commander Hira and tell her that I am on my way.” She replied, running her hand across the smooth metal. She glanced down at Vilim, who looked up at her attentively, “Imperial Advisor Vilim and I will decide his fate.”

Vilim and the Commander nodded in unison before the armored officer turned on his heels and marched down the corridor. Allura took to her feet and walked down to meet Vilim’s side. She glanced at the other present advisors.

“Imperial brothers and sisters, I dismiss the court.” She lifted her staff, nodding softly as she and Vilim followed Vorian, “We shall meet this evening to discuss the Ceremony’s end affairs as previously planned. I expect to see you all there.”

A chorus of hushed voices responded promptly thereafter as the advisors bowed before her in reverence. Philomena stepped forward and saluted the queen in the same fashion, though she never once let her eyes stray from Allura’s slender figure.

“Yes, my Empress.”

\---------

Outside of the palace, the festivities continued uninterrupted. The Al_Tean citizens that had previously been hidden from the ambushing Galra rebels had since resumed their revelry. Every street was overrun by patriotic spectators who hardly gave a thought to the scandalous rebels that had escaped…

...except for when they had caught sight of the newly captured prisoner that was being marched through the kingdom.

Despite the attention the troop had garnered, no citizen dared to interfere with the armored men and women. Commander Hira had been rumored to brutally punish all those who crossed her, and no one wanted to test that theory. Instead, they stood aside and let the troop march on toward the palace gates.

As soon as they arrived, the troops had been intercepted by Commander Vorian who notified the Empress of their arrival. And it didn’t take very long for Empress Allura to return for a look at the new war captive.

“Commander Hira.” Empress Allura called, stepping out of the extensive corridor that stretched from the immense entrance.

The Commander and her troops saluted the queen accordingly.

“My Empress.” Commander Hira responded reverently, also acknowledging the Imperial Advisor who stood beside her, “Imperial Advisor Vilim.”

“Commander Hira.” Vilim nodded briefly, “We welcome your troop and are pleased with their performance today.”

“Thank you, Advisor.” Hira bowed solemnly, “But I believe we truly have Lieutenant Lance’s leadership to thank for it. He led his own division of men to the crash site and initially acquired the rebel.”

Empress Allura locked eyes with Lance, her gaze softening as a playful grin breached her lips. She walked up to him

“Good work, brother.” She smiled, walking up to her silent sibling, “I knew you had it within you.”

Lance nodded, a small grin coming to his face despite his unfaltering hold on the prisoner in question. A mere “Thank you, sister” was all he could muster before she moved from him to the muzzled creature in his arms.

“Now.” Empress Allura breathed, tapping her staff against her chin as she locked eyes with the noticeably hostile captive, “Let me get a look at our most prized possession.”

The Empress brought her scepter to the prisoner’s chin, prodding at his tight muzzle. Dai 2 growled, refusing to break eye contact. He sheathed his claws behind his back, ready for any chance he’d have to tear into Imperial Flesh.

Allura reached forward with her other hand and began to move his head around as she examined him. There seemed to be something Allura wanted to find - and she was not stopping until she did.

“Oh! What’s this?” She suddenly broke her silence, resting her hand upon a large, emblazoned shape that had been carved into Dai 2’s furry flesh, “An Outer Zone Brand~?”

Dai 2 suddenly sucked in a silent breath. His eyes widened when he felt her hand brush against the tender burn. He had only earned the sigil a few phoebs ago and allegedly, it was to be rather tender and sore for quite a while - and the Empress had made sure of that fact.

Commander Vilim stepped forward, peering over Allura’s shoulder at the elaborate shape that accented his skin. He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow.

“An Outer Zone Brand?” He echoed questionably.

“Oh, Lance. You’ve truly outdone yourself.” Empress Allura grinned to herself, avoiding Dai 2’s lethal gaze as she looked up to exchange glances with her brother, “You’ve managed to catch yourself an Outer Zone officer - and he’s been newly installed.”

Dai 2 gritted his teeth, feeling his sigil pulse from the harsh contact she had made with it. Allura narrowed her eyes and smirked when she felt his vicious gaze on her. She turned to Commander Hira and swatted her away, elated.

“Hira, put this man away in a cell.” She instructed, turning her back to Dai 2, “He is still a young officer - and he’s hardly injured in any way. He just might prove to be useful to the empire, but Advisor Vilim and I still have yet to decide his fate.”

“Yes, My Empress.” Commander Hira bowed, “Is there anything else you wish for us to do?”

“Negative, Commander.” The Empress shook her head, “Just bring this rebel to his cell and have him locked up. I’ll give the guard further instruction later on.”

“Aye, My Empress.” Hira stated simply, turning to address her troops, “You heard her, men. We are to bring this rebel to the dungeon until further notice.”

As she spoke, two large soldiers who stood at the head of the formation stepped forward and were quick to take Dai 2 from Lance. They crossed their blades before the prisoner, ready to slice into him in case the rebel tried to lash out. Lance stepped back, locking eyes with his Commander as he awaited further instructions.

“Lieutenant Lance, you and your division are dismissed until the evening briefing.” Commander Hira stated, briefly exchanging glances with the other knights around them, “You are free to take part in the civilian festivities, but stay in uniform - and keep a keen eye out for any suspicious movements. Those rescuers may have gotten away, but we cannot afford to let our guard down after today’s events.”

As she spoke, a gentle face emerged in a stained glass window nearby. Her face was long and her diamond eyes glittered from behind the tint. She locked eyes with Lance for a moment, her lips curling into that of a gentle, motherly smile. 

Lance’s gaze softened upon exchanging glances with her, though he didn’t let it show.

“Aye, Commander.” Lance nodded, tearing his gaze away from the woman. He crossed his arm over his chest. His men did the same, saluting Hira in perfect unison.

Hira then turned to face the Empress. She looked at her expectantly, bringing her arm across her chest as well. The guards behind her saluted the Empress with impeccable timing, and to this, Empress Allura nodded to them.

“Soldiers, I commend you for your performance today.” She stated, glancing briefly at each uniformed individual before her, “Although many mistakes have been made, you have proven Imperial Perseverance - and for this, you will all be rewarded.”

“Aye, Divine Empress Allura.” The soldiers firmly responded, saluting her before disbanding from the gates.

As the knights dispersed, Lance stepped into the palace. He let out a breath, removing his helmet and shaking his silver hair out. He propped it on his hip and turned in time to see Davrik join his side.

“Hey, Prince Lance.” Davrik said, slinging an arm around his comrade, “Fruxari and I are planning to take a few of the rookie snipers out to hit a couple game booths in the Marketplace. We thought it would help boost morale on our team -you wanna come with?”

“I’m afraid I can’t.” Lance shook his head, letting out a soft sigh, “These last few movements have had me rushing around to prepare for the Bicentennial Festival, and I was hoping to finally get some time to myself.”

“Well… okay, if you say so.” Davrik shook his head, turning to the door, “You’re gonna be missing out though.”

“Believe me, I know.” Lance laughed to himself - though he did not think twice about the festivities he would be missing, “See you tonight, Private.”

“Aye aye, my prince.” Davrik teased over his shoulder, “Bet you I’ll finally be able to beat your Yalmor hunting record once and for all!!”

“Oh, good luck with that!” Lance smirked and called in return, “You’d have to down 6 shots of nunvil in a row to get that good.”

“Royal boy, watch me!” Davrik laughed out loud, “I shot down a Rebel Cruiser that flew at light speed - and I was sober!”

Lance amusedly shook his head, his eyes falling to the floor. He smiled to himself as Davrik’s loud laughter echoed down the corridor. He playfully shoved him away with a mere chuckle before locking eyes with the woman he previously noticed in the window. She waved and gave him a small grin.

“Welcome home, little prince.” She joined his side and walked down the hallway with him, “That was quite a catch you brought back with your men today.”

“You can say that again…” Lance sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “It’s been forever since I’ve had to muzzle a guy. He was pretty snappy.”

“I can only imagine.” Philomena glanced over her shoulder, looking out of a tall, stained glass window. She could see Commander Hira’s troop marching the prisoner to his isolated cell across the grounds, “Rebel pilots tend to be the most aggressive captives in the prisons.”

“Understood.” Lance returned, blinking and lowering his hand from his neck, “Though… he seemed a bit submissive when I first found him.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a bit odd.” Philomena tilted her head curiously, “Are you not going with your men to the marketplace?”

“I don’t think so. I’m hoping to crash for a while before having to return for the evening briefing.” Lance shook his head again, “Maybe next year, though. When security isn’t such a big deal to my sister.”

“Perhaps. But then again, your sister has always been quite a stickler for strong security.” Philomena placed a hand on her hip, “Especially with those rebels constantly on the prowl.”

The two of them turned a corner and exited the side of the palace. They walked in the direction of the Al_Tean military barracks situated right off of the palace grounds. Members from several disbanded troops had come to spend their off time there.

Some could be seen napping in the sunlight that bathed the green grass. Others were sitting under trees and writing to their families who lived on far-off planets. Still, others were reading books or fooling around with friends as though they were children again.

Regardless, the barracks had become just as festive as the marketplace and the Ceremonial Arena.

“Alright, Nani Philomena.” Lance looked back as Philomena began to fall behind, “I suppose this is where we part.”

“Seems so, little prince.” Philomena waved slightly, “I hope you get enough rest for this briefing. I hear that the patrols only get swifter and more strict as the day continues.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” Lance turned away after flashing one last smile at her, “I’ll be seeing you later, Nani!”

Philomena lifted her hand again, waving. She watched him enter the barracks before turning her attention to the nearby prison. Through a small opening - a slim window in an anterior cell - she could faintly make out the shapes of 4 individuals who were, without a doubt, the Al_Tean Soldiers, their Commander, and the newest addition to the Imperial Prison.

She hated to think about it, but she knew what they were doing to him within those stone cold walls. The soldiers would throw the muzzled prisoner into an empty cell with nothing but a straw mat to sleep upon. They would slam the door behind him as the Commander says a few menacing words - as she often did - and then they would leave the young rebel to figure out how to remove that dreaded, suffocating muzzle - if it didn’t swallow him first.

Philomena sighed to herself as she turned back to enter the Palace once more. She wished to aid the poor rebel but knew also that it was far beyond her position. As she went to exit, however, her eyes struck the figure of the young prince in one of the barrack windows. 

The young man looked out the window across the way, deep in thought. He seemed restless - even conflicted - as though he was arguing and questioning himself in a way only he could understand. Philomena felt a small smile come to her lips as the memory of an old friend had come to surface in her mind.

“Well, master advisor, maybe you weren’t crazy after all.” Philomena giggled to herself as she stepped once more through the tall doors of the palace, “...Perhaps this era of imperial transformation is only just beginning.”

\---------

All across Al_Tea, the celebration seemed to go on uninterrupted. 

Following the rather disquieting procession of the captured rebel pilot, the festivities seemed to gather even more momentum. For into the evening, Imperial citizens had taken to the streets to further the long-awaited celebration. Big bands from every region of the Empire had come to perform large compositions fit for dancing.

And dance they did.

For hours into the night and even far beyond, music rang out into the air as individuals of all races, ages, and backgrounds indulged in the sweet atmosphere of the bicentennial celebration. Diners were practically overrun with hungry, sweaty couples - young and old - who wished to grab a sweet bite to eat.

Boys hoping to capture the hearts of their partners purchased the sweetest pastries they had to offer. Old couples continued to find amusement in the event as well - for some had even taken to reviving their youth one more time with a dance and a meal.

In all regions of the planet, an aura of undying patriotism filled the starry twilit air. Ever since the founding of the Empire, Al_Tea had been the at the forefront of all Imperial successes and developments. And if only for a day, citizens who dwelled upon the mainland could proudly display their unfailing respect for their expanding Imperium - and for the Empress that ensured it.

A few miles apart from the bustling civil sectors, military men and women carried on with the celebration outside - and within - the military barracks. The Imperial Brewery had agreed to supply the Imperial guard with copious amounts of nunvil - free of charge. Because of this, many of the soldiers had had at least 1 shot of nunvil that night - if they hadn’t already taken the largest mug of nunvil offered.

They could very faintly hear the big band tunes of the nearby towns, but their drunken feet danced anyway. Women danced in the arms of their male partners. Their laughter rang out as they were swung back and forth to the music, letting loose in the holiday celebration. 

Off to the side, the remaining soldiers watched and laughed with their friends, poking fun at the uncaring entertainment before them. Several had begun to cheer for their peers, clapping their hands and stomping their feet.

A few had even resorted to making their own music on what small instruments they had. Given that not all of them were natives of Al_Tea, some of the musical instruments they utilized were quite exotic - but nonetheless festive.

Among the dancing, a certain Al_Tean Lieutenant crossed the grounds following the closing of his evening patrol. He was greeted with a chorus of drunken hoots and hollers, to which he simply waved and laughed. 

Davrik was right behind him but was the first man in the returning troop to join the dancing. In a swift motion, he rushed forward and swiped a large mug filled with nunvil from where the unused cups sat upon a makeshift platform beside the wall of the barrack. He took a nice long swig of the beverage and audibly shuddered.

“Hoo boy, that’s strong!!” He cried out, looking back at a group of brewers that continually restocked the cups with more nunvil, “This is that expensive Ancients Nunvile, huh?”

“Only the best for our Imperial Guard!” One of the brewers - a young woman holding a large basket of cups - responded, “An endless supply of nunvil for everyone here! Happy Bicentennial!”

“Happy Bicentennial!!” They all cheerfully responded, tossing their cups in the air as the dancing only continued more vivaciously.

Off to the side, Lance leaned on the wall with a small cup of nunvil in his hand. He laughed to himself as he watched Davrik playfully waltz with any willing woman who would accompany him. Lance had always known him to be a party animal, but it was only during exceptionally rare occasions that he lost himself as quickly as he did tonight. All it took was that one swig of nunvil, and he was set.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t the Little Prince!” Another voice caught Lance’s attention as soon as he sipped his share of nunvil.

Lance glanced over his shoulder to where a group of soldiers and snipers had formed a circle around a small mat in the grass. They seemed to be playing a card game. Each player held a few cards close to them, concealing their hand from their opponents. The rest of the deck sat in a neat pile at the middle of the mat with a single card face up right beside it, displaying a set of swirling Al_Tean symbols. On the other side sat a pile of gold coins.

One of the players, a man with greyish skin and static markings on his face, looked up at Lance with a hearty, contagious grin on his face. He seemed to be the head dealer; the deck had been situated almost directly in front of him. Lance locked eyes with him and walked over, his eyes skimming the board at the center of them.

“Commander Juniper!!” He greeted him over the music, “Dealing the playing cards once more, I see!”

“But of course, it’s the bicentennial!” Juniper grinned, motioning to the mat in front of him, “We just started another game of Jares. I could deal you in if you’d like!”

Lance slowly paced over to the gathered group. The other players had come to acknowledge the prince, either with a simple wave, nod, or audible greeting. Lance nodded to each present soldier as he took to Commander Juniper’s side. Upon entering the group, he shook his head.

“I’m afraid I’m in not the most… ‘playingest’ mood tonight, boys.” He shrugged, “But I most certainly can hang around and watch!”

“Wait a minute, did I just hear right? The Little Prince - the Biggest Game Boy in the entire galaxy - is declining a round of Jares?” One of the other players, a soldier with blue skin and bronze eyes, looked up from his hand, “What has this world come to?”

Lance laughed as yet another soldier - one of the rookies from Lance’s troop, no less - spoke up after giving him a playful look.

“And that’s not even the worst of it.” He said, taking a sip of his cup of nunvil, “Privates Davrik and Fruxari took the troop out for a few games in the marketplace - and The Little Prince stayed home to sleep.”

At this, the group burst into a mixed chorus of groans and laughter. Commander Juniper’s jaw dropped in a theatrical manner. He locked eyes with Lance, shuffling the deck once more.

“Sleep?? You mean to tell me that our Little Prince - the greatest gamer among our ranks - was willing to trade a day at the gaming booths for a couple hours of sleep?!” He gasped as his fingers danced along the rapidly moving playing cards. He brought a hand to his head, “Oh, Lieutenant, you’re hurting me!”

Lance let out a slight chuckle, rolling his eyes. Perhaps this Commander had had more than enough nunvil for one night. The aforementioned blue-skinned soldier looked up at the prince before he could say anything, however. 

“Come on, Lieutenant!” He called, reaching forward to give his hand of cards back to Commander Juniper, “Play a couple rounds of Jares with us!”

Once he said this, it seemed as though all players were in agreement. At once, each soldier present urged Lance to join the game. Commander Juniper picked up each hand given to him and continued to shuffle the cards. Lance placed a hand on his hip and let out a great sigh before exchanging one last glance with the commander.

“Come on, Little Prince…” Juniper teasingly waved the deck of cards in front of his face, “Who could resist a few games with the boys?”

Each soldier looked up at Lance expectantly. They had all handed in their cards in preparation for a new game - and one that they hoped would include a favorite imperial officer.

A few moments passed before Lance finally let out a sigh and sunk to the grass alongside his men. He pulled a fistful of small coins out of his pocket before sliding it into the pile that sat not too far from him. He took one more swig of nunvil before placing it in the grass beside him.

“Alright, you bozos.” He smirked, picking up the hand Commander Juniper had dealt him, “Deal me in.”

\---------

A few hours later, the Bicentennial celebration had finally begun to still itself. As dusk turned to night, the streets were cleared of the dancing couples who had worn themselves out by the early morning. The big bands that had come to perform eventually ended their musical romp and retreated to their own quarters while the previously bustling diners had finally come to shut their doors for the night as well.

In a matter of hours, the patriotic festival had lost its momentum - and the same could be said about the celebration taking place in the military barracks. At around the same time as the civilians - or maybe a little after - the soldiers had begun to also admit that they too had become quite exhausted from their drunken dancing. And one by one, each soldier found themselves stumbling into bed by midnight - if they hadn’t already found solace in the grass or under a tree.

When the last few soldiers had finally turned in for the night, the young prince had taken to giving the premise one last sweep before he also slipped into his own quarters for some rest. He walked silently through the grass with his hands folded behind his back. He didn’t expect to see anyone out here at this hour - it was just standard procedure.

In the sleepy silence, however, Lance had begun to make out what sounded like quiet crying. He looked up to notice a figure sitting against the stump of a large tree. Upon looking closer, Lance could recognize the white and blue armor of the Al_Tean Military, leading him to assume that who he was looking at was yet another restless soldier.

Lance walked over to the crying figure. As he got closer, the shape of the soldier had become clearer; he could see the fit body of a young man. In one hand, he held a half-empty cup of nunvil. In the other, a faded, crumpled sheet of paper.

“...Soldier?” Lance finally asked, tilting his head and placing a hand on his shoulder.

At this, the young man lifted his head to reveal a fish-like countenance that had become tear-streaked and flushed. His puffy eyes stared blankly at Lance - the young man had obviously not emerged from his drunken stupor yet. He sniffed and swiped at his face, trying to wipe away his tears. Lance blinked, however, suddenly realizing who he had come across.

“Davrik?” He asked, “What are you still doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Davrik coughed sullenly, crossing his arms, “B-Besides, You know I hate sleeping.”

Lance took a seat beside his best friend. Davrik let out a sigh, his head still hanging low. He let out a sigh, his fingers tapping restlessly against the metal cup he held. He sniffed slightly and let out a shaking sigh. Lance’s eyes trailed down to the sheet of paper he held; it was an old photo of a group of people - Davrik’s family. 

“...You ever wonder if they’re lying to us?” Davrik sullenly asked, his slurred tone practically monotonous.

“Lying?” Lance tilted his head, looking back up at his friend, “Who’s lying?”

“Them! The Advisors!” Davrik responded, motioning with his cup to the palace, “The Empress and all of her cronies!”

Davrik let out another cough and swiped at his teary face again. Lance looked back at the palace that sat feet away from the barrack. In one of the upper windows, he could see the faint outline of his sister. She was preparing for bed. 

“Those bastards continue to lie to us! They have no interest for anyone but themselves, and no one has ever had the balls to stand up to them!” Davrik roared drunkenly, throwing his cup into the grass after having sipped the last of his drunk, “Well, no more!! I vow to one day change all of that - even if I need to kill the Empress myself!!”

Lance’s eyes widened as Davrik suddenly took to his feet, stumbling clumsily through the grass in a fiery rage. Lance jumped to his feet and grabbed him firmly.

“Davrik, you need to stop this.” He stated solidly, “If you leave this campus at this hour, you are going to get in a lot of trouble. If you get caught, they’ll-”

“They’ll what, take everything away from me?!” Davrik snapped, trying fruitlessly to shove Lance off of him, “Strip me of my Imperial Privileges and take my title away a second time?! Take my family away again?! Well, newsflash, pretty boy! You only get one family and mine is long gone!!”

Suddenly, his rage was replaced with broken sadness. His previously narrowed eyes softened as he burst into quiet tears again. Davrik fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Lance sank to the grass with him, his grip still firm - but not as rigid as it had been.

“Who am I kidding…” Davrik sobbed, raw emotion filling his words, “My family has been gone for so long, I don’t even know why I still dwell on their memory. I don’t even know why I still hold out the hope that they are still out there.”

Davrik’s words faded to soft hiccups as he drunkenly fell against Lance, who blinked and held him in place - even if it was a bit difficult to keep the intoxicated soldier upright. Davrik slumped in Lance’s arms, his face pressed sullenly against his suit.

“I’m a total mess, man…” He whimpered, his voice muffled, “I mean today, I saw all these families in the marketplace celebrating and I just… I wish I had been able to f-feel that. I wish I knew what family felt like…”

Lance’s eyes softened. Davrik held the photo like a lifeline as he began to slip into an emotional meltdown. He bowed his head against Lance’s shoulder and choked back a sob.

“Th-The only proof I have of even remotely having a f-family is…” He wept sullenly and tightened his grip upon the photo, “...this old photograph…”

The next few moments were filled with silence. Davrik let out a trembling sigh but didn’t pull away from Lance. Lance said nothing, though he couldn’t help but feel out of place. He wasn’t the Imperial Consultant like his Philomena was. He couldn’t offer advice for familial issues to anyone - let alone his drunk best friend.

“A-And Hira loves to throw that fact in my face too…” Davrik then sulked, sniffling quietly against his friend, “...Sh-She loves to remind me that I have no one to look up to b-but myself. N-Not even Vilim can be considered a father to me…”

“...Davrik, I think you’ve had enough to drink for tonight.” Lance finally murmured after a few more moments of silence had come to pass the two of them by, “It might be time for you to get some rest if you know what’s good for you.”

Davrik groaned as Lance stood up and hoisted the intoxicated soldier to his feet again. He slipped his arm around him and took most of his weight, leading his companion back to the barrack - and thus into his bed.

\---------

Meanwhile, in the Imperial Prison nearby, the silence wasn’t as deafening as it was outside. Though most of the prisoners had fallen asleep in their cells, others were still awake and found no hope in resting. They were much too busy conversing and debating about their newest addition, the rebel pilot that the prince had shot down.

In the darkness of the prison, the criminals contemplated where he might have come from and how long he may have lasted there. On Al_Tea, it was universally understood that any member of the rebellion was to be given the death sentence - but how long would they keep him around?

The only value a prisoner held in the Imperium was based upon the amount of quality work they could offer. And from what they understood, Dai 2 was young and strong. If he could work hard enough, he might have a chance at biding his time for a few weeks longer. All the same, if The Empress waited too long, the rebels might come back and rescue him just as they did the Gargalaxian prisoners. 

As the prisoners debated among themselves, there was movement from between the cells. A cloaked figure walked down the cell-lined corridor, briefly glancing at each hostage as he went. His face was covered by a scarf that hid his nose and mouth. His blue eyes were the only visible part of him. 

In his arms, he held a tray of goods taken from the Dining Hall of the nearby Palace. They were still warm - and were obviously leftovers - and their aromas filled the air, drawing the captives closer to the bars. They reached hungrily for the edible goods, to which the figure simply chuckled.

“Happy Bicentennial, boys.” The figure murmured, his eyes practically smiling as he slipped each present prisoner a piece to eat.

They all grasped eagerly at their portions, scarfing them down like starved animals. The only sustenance they were given came from small rations of salted nuts and maybe a small cup of water. On most holidays, those who found favor from among their overlookers might have received a small portion of juicy berries, but this holiday found berries in high demand - so they became exclusive to only the civilians who could afford them.

They were starved and received virtually nothing - except for the bi-nightly visit they received from the faceless cloaked figure. They didn’t know who he was, but many had begun to speculate that he was the younger brother of the Empress - which was why they referred to him as only ‘The Good Prince’.

As he walked through the corridors, the figure slipped more food to each grateful hostage. He set aside a small portion for the last - and most recent - prisoner, however. And though several prisoners tried to coax him into giving them his portion instead, saying that Dai 2 likely hated all Imperials and wanted nothing to do with any of them. Still, the figure refused.

He walked onward between the cells and entered a small section in the back, where only a couple cells had been located - reserved only for the prisoners who had been deemed the most formidable. The section was small and only held 2 cells - 1 of which had been empty.

The other cell sat seemingly still. The back half of the chamber had been engulfed in shadows - where the nameless hostage was likely hiding - Dai 2. He didn’t move. He didn’t respond to the entrance of the figure. And as a matter of fact, the figure wouldn’t have known he was inside if it hadn’t been for the restless scratching noises that came from within. 

The figure closed the door with a soft bump - to which the scratching ceased. For a moment, silence had engulfed the room. The figure neared the metal gating, cautious yet curious.

“I know you’re in there.” He said softly, taking the last portion of food off of the tray, “I brought you something to eat. It’s from the bicentennial celebration.”

To this, there was a low grunt - one filled with anger and disdain that sent chills up the figure’s spine. Dai 2 apparently refused to take part in any of the sustenance he provided. He would much rather die than accept anyone’s pity.

The figure slipped the tray through a hatch in the bars, letting the aroma fill the room. He paused for a moment, expecting the prisoner to come to get the food. But there was no movement. A low growl reached the figure’s ears - one that had been practically muffled. To this, the figure wrapped his hands around the cell bars. He narrowed his eyes, spotting the shape of a figure that sat hunched in the corner of the cell - the prisoner.

“...That muzzle.” He muttered, tilting his head, “Don’t you want to take it off?”

Dai 2 paused. His ears perked up. The figure had undeniably caught his attention. The figure smiled slightly.

“I know you probably hate having that thing wrapped around your face.” He murmured again, “If you just come to me, I will take it off of you.”

There was more silence. Dai 2 was listening, but he was unwilling. Perhaps the figure needed to offer him more motivation.

“Every sound you make causes that thing to get tighter on your head. And I can imagine - from how strongly you despise us Imperials - that the muzzle is pretty damn tight right now. And I assure you that it can get much tighter than it already is.” The figure recanted, tilting his head to the side, “So unless you wish to lose all circulation to your brain, I think it would be a good idea to let me take that thing off.”

Dai 2 said nothing. There was seemingly no change in his position until he finally gave in to the offer. He cautiously turned to face the figure, his glowing yellow eyes peering through the shadows. Silently and slowly, he emerged from the shadows, cautiously making his way toward the bars. His gaze never left that of the figure. 

It was painfully obvious that he placed no trust in this stranger - and never planned to. He stopped behind the bars, placing a short distance between him and the figure. Dai 2 was just barely an arm's length away from the stranger, but this presented no obstacle. He bowed his head wordlessly.

The figure reached through the bars, gently tugging at the muzzle. He felt Dai 2 flinch against his touch. In the next moment, the snap holding the muzzle together came undone and fell at the prisoner’s feet. 

Dai 2 let out a relieved sigh and brought his hands to his face. His countenance had become lined with painfully deep indentations that signaled where the muzzle had been. Dai 2’s clawed fingers ran along the lines and he flinched quietly when he found where the muzzle had begun to chafe. 

The figure brought his fingers to the site and healed the irritated wound. The redness faded almost as soon as his fingers touched his flesh. The prisoner’s eyes widened and he looked up at the figure. The figure somehow flashed him a smile using only his eyes.

The figure stepped away from the bars and motioned toward the food that was still situated upon the tray. Dai 2’s eyes followed for a brief moment before he looked back at the cloaked stranger.

“Happy Bicentennial, my friend.” He stated simply before walking out the door once more.

Dai 2 was then left alone in his cell with nothing but his silent confusion - and the tray of warm food the stranger had given him. His eyes stared at the closed door for a single moment before he neared the hot sustenance with a single question in mind.

“...Who the hell was that??”


End file.
